


Finding Her Way Home

by rebelrsr



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: Angst, Dark Willow Rosenberg (BtVS), F/F, Magic, Romance, Soulmates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-02-04
Updated: 2007-02-04
Packaged: 2019-03-12 13:28:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 70
Words: 140,112
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13548309
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rebelrsr/pseuds/rebelrsr
Summary: After her breakup with Tara, Willow flees Sunnydale and discovers a new family - and a new magical threat on the horizon.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Lots and lots of notes below. I couldn't have made this fic more complicated if I'd tried
> 
> A/N:This is a response to Kirky’s challenge at IKOLY.com to complete the unfinished story “Finding Her Way Home” by Aeris Jade Orion (whose permission I did receive eventually). Before the site went down, the original work was archived at moonlit-musings. The first chapter posted here is NOT mine. It belongs to Aeris Jade. My contributions start at Chapter Two.  
> A/N2: I’m mixing parts of S6 and S7 with very little regard to canon. For purposes of the fic, Dawn is over the age of consent *wink*.  
> A/N3: There were some inconsistencies in Aeris’ original chapter. One of Willow’s mothers was alternately called Kirstan and Katrina. I chose the one that was used most often and am sticking with that.

The winter winds whipped around her in a continuous beating of cold. Her coat seemed to offer only a thin protection against the inhuman attack of Jack. It was yet another element out to get her. It, and everyone else. It wouldn't matter in the end though, because when you got down to it, no one really cared. Buffy was caught up in the whole Spike soap opera. Xander was too busy trying to keep his fiancé happy, and Tara... Well, Tara wasn't really in the picture anymore.  
  
"Wouldn't you feel better having Buffy or Tara with you?" Dawn asked quietly.  
  
She shook her head, not wanting to think about the others. Dawn was the only one that had bothered finding out the real reason behind her magic use, and about the incident with the warlock. Then again, Dawn had ended up playing nurse to her, experiencing first hand what the magical growth spurt that the warlock had triggered had done to her.  
  
In a matter of days she'd made a leap in magic that should've taken her the rest of her life to achieve. Now, instead of learning to control it as she went along, she had an enormous amount of magic in her that was on a hair trigger. The slightest loss of control in her emotions or her thoughts, was causing disastrous results.  
  
Buffy and the other's had simply jumped to conclusions about her use of magic, not bothering to ask her about it. Personally, she wasn't about to tell anyone anything when they couldn't simply ask her. Dawn, of course, had actually asked her one night, and in return she'd told the teenager the truth.  
  
Now, a month later, the teen was determined to drag her into the police station to meet Agent Reiner. Something she didn't want to do. In fact, this whole thing had been Dawn sticking her nose where it didn't belong. A characteristic that she was currently grateful for.  
  
If it hadn't been for the teen, she never would've gotten up the nerve to call the hot line about her suspicion. The missing person poster that they'd found after Buffy had died had weighed heavily on her mind as a constant reminder of who she really was. A crisis of emotions that had left her sinking in a dependency of magic because it was the only thing she could depend on at the time, or so she thought.  
  
Dawn was the one that had forced her into calling the investigating Agent. She had also been the one that had made the appointment for the DNA test, to verify her identity. The first time they'd gone to the hospital just her and the nurse that had taken a swabbing.  
  
Now, they were about to meet the agent. Personally, she couldn't see why he couldn't just tell her the results of the DNA test over the phone, or better yet, they could've just mailed her the results.  
  
"Ohmygod, she looks just like you."  
  
Willow came out of her daze to find herself staring at two women seated outside the conference room. The one on the left was about 5'6, with a tautly built muscular body. She had green eyes, and long curly raven hair. She was tanned, and dressed in faded jeans, and work boots. She was clasping the hand of the woman next to her. A 5'4, red head, with the softest curves that she'd ever seen. She had emerald eyes, with pale skin. The thing that caught her attention was the identical wedding rings on their left hands.  
  
The red head looked up, shocking her with how much they looked alike. The black haired woman seemed to be the only thing holding the red head in place. The red head's body was tensed, with tears streaming down her cheeks in answer to whatever the raven haired woman was whispering.  
  
"Miss Rosenberg, if you would come into the conference room then we can get started." Agent Reiner stepped into her view of the two women, herding them in.  
  
She numbly sat in the chair next to Dawn, watching the two women sit across from her. "What's going on?"  
  
Agent Reiner leaned against the table as he opened a file. "Miss. Rosenberg, this is Katrina and Jennifer Hirsch, the parents of the missing girl. When they heard about the test they wanted to be here."  
  
"Oh." She swallowed back the urge to run, grateful once more for Dawn's forcibly presence. "Am I Denise?"  
  
Reiner snapped the file shut, and tossed it in front of her. " There was a 98 percent match to Dr. Hirsch's DNA."  
  
"Oh. O-okay." She tried to smile at the two women. " S-so what happens now? Because I for one am clueless. I mean, up until... well now, I was always plain old dependable Willow Rosenberg. Only now you're telling me I'm Denise Hirsch, although I guess that means I'm still Jewish, which is a good thing. And what about my...what about Ira and Sheila, I mean, what will happen to them? And where am I supposed to live now. They sold the house, I can't live at the dorms cause I gave my room up, and Buffy wants me moved out by Friday..."  
  
"You can stay with us." Jennifer interrupted quietly. "It would give us a chance to get to know each other."  
  
"B-but what about college, I can't miss any of my classes..."  
  
"Our ranch is only an hour outside the city. You'd have to leave earlier but you would still be able to make your classes."  
  
She looked from Jennifer to Katrina nervously. She wanted to know her parents, her sisters. What it would be like to have a real family for once, and it wasn't like the other's would be missing her too much.  
  
"Alright. I'd like that."  
  
The tension drained from her parent's bodies, letting the three women study each other comfortably. Maybe this was going to work alright after all.  
  
***  
  
"Are you sure about this? I mean, I'm positive that once Buffy knows what's going on she'll let you stay."  
  
Willow put the last box in the back of her old jeep. Dawn had been great about the whole thing up until she found out she'd be moving out of town. The teenager had tried just about everything to keep her from leaving. Hiding her keys, unpacking her stuff, hiding her stuff....  
  
"I need to do this. I need to find out who I really am, to find out if my powers were inherited or not." Willow hugged the girl close, hating to lose the girl, but she had to go. " Besides, it's only for a little while, and you can come visit me."  
  
Dawn nodded, clinging to her. " I don't want to lose anyone else. You're like my really cool older sister, you know."  
  
"And you're like a really adorable but slightly neurotic little sister." She chuckled with the teen, then slowly extracted herself from Dawn's arms. " I'll call you when I get there."  
  
"Promise?"  
  
"Promise." She hugged the girl again quickly, then hopped into the black leather drivers seat. She wanted to get to the ranch before night fall.  
  
"Be careful." Dawn sniffed, wrapping her arm's tightly around her body.  
  
She cranked the engine, and released the brakes, trying not to notice the crying girl. If she looked up then she would start crying to, and then she would end up staying there another night. She shifted the jeep into drive, and slowly pulled out. She had a long way to go before the sun set.  
  
***  
  
"Dawn!! What are you still doing up? And where's Willow? Did she get moved out?"  
  
She ducked her head to hide the tears. It was all Buffy's fault. If she'd bothered asking Willow instead of jumping to assumptions, then the witch would still be there. " Yeah. You won't have to put up with her anymore."  
  
"We've talked about this. She's abusing magic. If it was only me then I'd let her stay, but I have you to worry about. I won't risk you for her sake."  
  
She jerked away as Buffy reached out to her. Anger bubbled up in her chest, anger at her sister's stubbornness, and naiveness. " You don't know anything, because you never bothered to ask. Instead you guys are so busy jumping to conclusions that it's never occurred to you that there might be an explanation."  
  
"Anya and Giles already told us all about how easy it is for innocents to become addicted to magic."  
  
Dawn couldn't help it, she had to laugh. Willow? Innocent? What world were they leaving in? " Willow isn't innocent, she hasn't been since she first found out about vampires, or the first time her parents left her alone, or the first time she realized that she was gay, or even the first time she was forced to kill a demon."  
  
"It doesn't matter, she'd still using too much magic."  
  
"Well considering that she found out that her parents are really escaped felons that kidnapped her when she was a child, I can't really blame her." Dawn stood up angrily, pacing the length of the living room. " Or how that warlock forced her body to over load on magic, and now she can't control it."  
  
"B-but she never said anything."  
  
She glared at her sister coldly, " She was trying to tell you last night, but somebody was to busy kicking her out."  
  
Dawn turned away from her sister, if she stayed there she would try to comfort her, and right now, she didn't deserve any comfort. Not after chasing Willow out of her life.  
  
***  
  
She stared at the wood door of the large ranch house, searching for the courage to knock. She raised her fist again, and paused, still lacking the nerve to perform something so simple. Jennifer had come off as a mother hen, very affectionate and easily emotional. Kirstan seemed to be a wall of strength, letting out her emotions only in extreme situations. They had both showed how much they wanted her to come home, but that was then. What if they had changed their minds already?  
  
"Nervous?"  
  
She turned to the quiet voice that jarred her from her thoughts. She gulped in shock at the sight of one of her identical triplets. The twenty one year old was a mirror image of her, down to the hair. But the differences were just as noticeable. Where she was now interested in brighter clothes, this girl was wearing work clothes. Where her body was out of shape, but thin, this girl was well toned.  
  
"A little. Oh, I'm Willow by the way."  
  
"Dorian." The other girl stepped forward, pulling her into a hug. "Mom told us you'd be staying here a while."  
  
"I hope you don't mind."  
  
Dorian grinned at her happily, " We're going to have so much fun. I can teach you how to ride, and we can go swimming in the lake, and we can explore the surrounding forests, and Drew's looking forward to teaching you kick boxing, and Morgan and Elle has always wanted another sister to play pranks on...."  
  
"At least now I know where I get my babbling from."  
  
Dorian laughed, breaking out of her shy smile. The girl's entire attitude put her at ease. There was no expectation's of her, no pressure, or goals that she had to live up to. " Come on, let's go introduce you to the others."  
  
She looked back at her stuff still in her jeep, trying to disengage herself from her sister, " What about all my stuff?"  
  
"James will get it."  
  
She squeaked as her sister pulled her towards her parents where they were instructing a young girl on a pony. She could see the other triplet and another girl sitting on the wood fence, playing pep squad for the girl on the pony. The youngest of the girls had red hair and green eyes, but resembled a cross between her mothers. The other girl, Morgan, looked more like Kirstan then Jennifer. With dark raven-auburn hair, and emerald eyes.  
  
"I-I can't do this."  
  
Dorian glanced over at her shyly, "Is it because our parents are lesbian's?"  
  
Willow blushed under her sister's gaze, "I'm gay, so no. I'm just... I don't know how to act or what to do, I mean what if they hate me? Or I make a fool out of myself? Oh goddess, you don't have a problem with witches do you? Because I don't want to end up burned at the stake or anything. I think I should leave..."  
  
Dorian latched onto her arm, holding her in place with an amused smile. "Just be yourself and you'll be fine. Besides you're our sister so by default we have to like you. And as for being a witch, so is half our family."  
  
"Oh." Willow hurriedly searched her mind for another reason to leave. She didn't want to do this anymore, she just wanted to go back home.  
  
"Hey, can one of you give me a hand? She's trying to make a run for it." Dorian called out happily.  
  
Morgan and Drew leaped off the fence, sprinting towards them at a full run. The two girls skidded to a stop in front of them. Drew grabbed her other arm and began to help Dorian drag her towards her parent's. Morgan started to giggle at them, and pushed on her back.  
  
"Well, it seems that you've been accepted into our clan." Kirstan remarked dryly.  
  
"Guess what? She said that she's a witch." Dorian piped in, finally letting her go.  
  
Jennifer sat Elle on her feet, looking up with genuine interest. " Really? How long have you been practicing?"  
  
"Since eleventh grade."  
  
"Why did you start so late?"  
  
Willow nervously looked around trying to figure out what to tell them. She couldn't tell them the truth. They'd put her in the looney bin if she told them that she'd had to learn when her best friends vampire boyfriend lost his soul and killed her teacher who was a rom gypsy.  
  
"It's a long, long, complicated, and not quite believable story."  
  
"You'd be surprised by what we believe." Kirstan remarked.  
  
She studied the dark woman curiously. The athletic woman was giving off a familiar vibe that was just on the tip of her tongue. She was positive that she'd meet someone with that same vibe before, but she couldn't place it. It was a strong, dark, powerful vibe, that reminded her off a creature of the night. A vampire, or werewolf, or even a slay...  
  
"You're a slayer." She hadn't meant to say it, but it just slipped out of her numb lips.  
  
Kirstan's closed face opened up in surprise, and even more suspicion. " How do you know about slayers?"  
  
"Hello. Lives on a hellmouth?" She swallowed at the darkening expression on her mothers face. " The current slayer, or one of the current slayers is my best friend."  
  
"Wait, you're the witch that helps her." Jennifer muttered.  
  
"How....?"  
  
"I may be retired but we still get the occasional news from the council." Kirstan smiled at her, " And from what I hear, you and the slayer have caused quite an uproar inside the old boys club."  
  
"Oh, right. Um, so I guess you want to know about my involvement with the slayer?"  
  
"That might be a good idea."  
  
***  
  
Buffy sat on the edge of the bed, watching her sister try to ignore her. " Did she tell you where she's staying?"  
  
"Why? So you can go slay her now?"  
  
"So I can apologize."  
  
"She's moved in with her biological family."  
  
She scooted a little closer to Dawn, smoothing back the teen's hair. " Can you give me their address or phone number?"  
  
Dawn rolled onto her side and took a piece of paper from her night stand. Taking it from her sister, she took a look at it, and froze.  
  
"This is outside the city."  
  
"I know." Dawn said coldly, then went back to the book she was reading.  
  
***  
  
The room was large, with dark wood walls, and a long bed. The furniture that decorated the bedroom was hand crafted antique. Various stuffed animals, clothes, and toys was placed around the room. Pictures of her family hung on the walls, showing them at different times in their life, times that she'd been robbed of. Even the pictures were they were laughing and carefree, there was strain of sadness in their faces.  
  
"We didn't have the heart to pack your stuff after you were taken." Jennifer slowly entered the room, her worn eyes tracing over everything. " We'd buy you birthday and Christmas presents every year in hopes that that would be the year we'd get you back. Then we'd put your presents here, in your room, knowing that someday you'd be able to enjoy them."  
  
"Why didn't you do a tracking spell?"  
  
Jennifer picked up a picture of her with her identical sisters. " We tried, but there was a tracking block on you. We spent years looking for you, using all our resources, but we had two other daughters to raise and another one on the way."  
  
"It wasn't your fault." She was unsure what to do, how to comfort this stranger that had given birth to her. "Is Kirstan our father, or did you get a sperm donor?"  
  
"After we were married her watcher gave us a spell that allowed us to have children."  
  
She nodded, having suspected that it was something like that. There was too much of both women in all of them for her to be anything but biologically related.  
  
"I've talked to Kirstan about your problem, and we want to start training you immediately. You need to learn control your magic before someone gets hurt."  
  
"What about Kirstan? She doesn't strike me as much of a witch."  
  
Jennifer chuckled softly at her remark. " No, she'll be handling your physical training."  
  
She gulped at the idea of having to learn how to fight. Just the idea alone was enough to make her tired. "B-but I don't fight, fighting is bad, very bad."  
  
"Part of you problem is your physical condition. A lot of a witches control depends on your physical fitness, breathing control, how much control you have over your body." Jennifer smiled reassuringly at her, " It'll be fine. Kirstan's a great teacher, and she'll get you in shape in no time."  
  
"That's what I'm afraid of." She muttered.  
  
"Why don't you get washed up? Dinner's almost ready." Jennifer laughed as she left.  
  
"Okay....Mom?"  
  
The red head looked back at her with tears in her eyes. "Yes?"  
  
She walked up to the woman and hugged her tightly, "It's good to be home."  
  
"It's good to have you home, sweetie."  
  
***  
  
She stared off at the stars in a haze of sadness. She'd been so ready to believe the worst of her friend, that she'd forgotten to look for the best. She'd just been so angry over been ripped away from heaven, that it was easier to think of her friend doing it out of hate rather than love. Now, in her own pain, she'd over looked Willow's pain.  
  
"There you are luv. I was looking all over the place for you. I thought you'd be out patrolling already."  
  
"Not now Spike."  
  
Two strong arms wrapped around her waist, pulling her tightly against a cold chest. She flinched at the feel of his cold lips against her pulse. She shrugged off the vampire, hating herself for giving in to her need for some amount of comfort.  
  
"What's wrong?" Spike moved to stand in front of her, "It's Red. It isn't your fault, you know. The chit should've told us."  
  
"We wouldn't have listened, and she knew that. I should've known. We were living in the same house, saw each other all the time. I should've seen it."  
  
The vampire flicked his cigarette butt to the ground, "You're in love with her."  
  
"What? No. Of course not. She's my friend, that's all." She glared at Spike, just daring him to contradict her. All he had to do was open his mouth and say it, then she could stake the S.O.B. One word that's all it would take.  
  
"I may be a vampire, but I still know love when I see it."  
  
"I..." She trailed off as the vampire disappeared into the shadows. "I don't want to be."  
  
***  
  
The fire blazed higher and higher amidst the laughter and talking of the large group. It was an incredible gathering, one of love and friendship. Her grandparents, aunts, uncles, cousins, sisters, and parents were all gathered by the lake, around the large bon fire. Food was scattered on a cluster of tables nearby. Kirstan was standing over the barbecue pit, cooking various hamburgers, steaks, and beef hot dogs.  
  
She could hear the gentle drift of music as Dorian played her guitar with Morgan's voice soothing her nerves. An angel lifted from the mortal realm with wings a far.  
  
"She has an incredible voice." The cool blonde pulled herself up on the fence beside her, the pale ice blue eyes sparkling with mischief. "I'm Alex by the way."  
  
"Willow." She glanced back at her eclectic family. "They're very friendly."  
  
"That's one way to put it."  
  
"Are you another relative?"  
  
Alex shook her head in amusement, "Goddess no. I'm your neighbor."  
  
"I didn't know we had neighbor's."  
  
"This place is pretty far out. How are you adjusting?"  
  
Willow was tempted to laugh at that question. Adjusting was an understatement. "At this point, I'd say it's like entering a whole different world."  
  
"Yeah, but a good world."  
  
"So...Your boyfriend here?" She winced inwardly at her not so subtle question. She was really going to have to work on her flirting.  
  
"Nope, gay and single. Just like you."  
  
Busted. She tried to look innocent but the pouty face the other woman had was making it impossible to think. That body, with curves that went on forever and ever. The thick, luscious, blonde hair that was pulled into a careless pony tail. Those thick moist ruby red lips that stuck out just...so.  
  
"Would...would you like to do something sometime?" She choked out.  
  
"Depends. Would it be a date?"  
  
She swallowed hard at the steady gaze, "Yeah, unless you don't want it to, then it wouldn't be, but I want it to be."  
  
"There's an old mining cave close by, we could take a picnic lunch up there and talk."  
  
"I'd like that..."  
  
"Willow!!! Come on!!!"  
  
Alex smirked as Drew beckoned them over. The adults were gathering around the bon fire, signaling the start of the story sharing.


	2. Chapter 2

Buffy stood on the porch long after Spike left, trying to understand what was happening. The warmth and peace of Heaven were distant memories. She was cold, inside and out. Leaning against the railing, the Slayer let her mind wander over images from the past: her first day at Sunnydale High; visiting Willow before going to confront the Master; hanging out in the Bronze; holding Willow after Glory had sucked Tara’s mind. _Damn. Even I can see the pattern here. Willow, Willow, Willow._   Straightening, Buffy reentered the house.

Dawn was in her room. Without the two witches, it was eerily quiet. _It’s time to stop drifting through life. If Spike’s right_ , she frowned at the thought, _then I can’t just let Willow walk away._ Firming her resolve, Buffy marched into the kitchen and picked up the phone. Two rings later, a quiet voice answered.

“Hello?”

"Hey, Tara, it’s Buffy.”

The Slayer waited impatiently through the pause. “B-Buffy, is som-something wrong?

“Not exactly. Dawn mentioned a few things about Willow’s magic use.” She gripped the receiver tightly. _Come on, Buffy, don’t stop now_. “We were way off base on what’s been happening. Can I come over?”

“I d-don’t th-think th-that’s a good idea.” Buffy closed her eyes at the response. “Even if she was able to st-stop using magic, we aren’t getting back together.”

The closed eyes flew open. _Whoa! Definitely not getting back together, Tara. No way._ “Yeah. I know. But, I didn’t really understand everything Dawn told me, and there’s some other stuff, too.”

The blonde witch’s reluctance was clear. “I don’t know, Buffy. It’s been really hard to move on. I don’t know…”

“Please, Tara. I promise not to mention even once you getting back with Willow. I just need some answers, and I don’t want to do it over the phone. How about I meet you at the Espresso Pump in half an hour?”

“Alright, Buffy.” A sigh sounded in her ear. “I’ll see you there.”

Nodding in satisfaction, the Slayer replied, “Great. Thanks, Tara. Bye.” After replacing the handset, Buffy trotted up the stairs and knocked on Dawn’s door. No one answered, but she knew her sister was there. Gently opening the door, Buffy saw the teenager sitting at her desk, headphones on, reading.

Dawn looked up when she walked in. Removing the headphones, the brunette asked, “So, did you call her?”

“Um, no.”

Dawn looked disapproving. “Geeze, Buffy, don’t you think you owe her an apology?”

“Yeah, I do, Dawn. I thought maybe she needed a little time to settle in. And,” she decided a little honesty was in order, “I wanted to talk to Tara about the magic stuff. I’m meeting her at the Pump in a few minutes. Think you’ll be OK on your own for a while?”

The younger Summers smiled, “Sure, Buffy. I got plenty of stuff to work on.”

“OK, then. I’ll lock the door when I leave. Don’t wait up.” She left the room, Dawn’s laughter following her.

*** 

Willow followed Alex to the bonfire. The redhead still felt awkward joining the Hirsches. Perhaps sensing her discomfort, Jennifer smiled at her prodigal daughter from her position against Kirstan. The young girl smiled back, though the effort was obvious. Choosing a spot between Drew and Morgan, Willow listened as one of her many new relatives asked for volunteers to start the storytelling.

“I’ll start,” Kirstan’s sure voice easily topped the various side conversations taking place around the huge fire. She kissed Jennifer lightly before continuing. “It seems appropriate, now that we’re all together again, to tell Willow how her mother and I met.”

Groans sounded from various locations. “Not again, Mom, please,” Morgan begged from Willow’s left. “Tell us anything but that. The rest of us could quote the whole thing, word for word.”

Kirstan laughed. “OK. I’ll spare you that tale. But we need to help Willow feel more comfortable being back. Any suggestions?”

A vocal free-for-all began. Suggestions, questions, and bickering surged from kids and adults. Willow was touched; her family was trying so hard to make her feel at home. Maybe she was the one who needed to let them in on who Willow Rosenberg – now Hirsch – really was. “How about I start us off?” she shouted over the din.

“Really?” Jennifer asked.

“Sure. Goddess knows living on the Hellmouth with a Slayer for a best friend gives me plenty of tales to choose from.” Willow thought for a moment. “Have you guys heard of a demon named Anyanka?” A chorus of ‘no’s’ sounded. “OK, then,” she continued with a grin. “You’ll get a kick out of this one.”

Sitting cross-legged, hands resting comfortably on her knees, Willow started things off. “About three years ago, Anyanka came to Sunnydale. She was a vengeance demon who granted wishes to scorned women.” Briefly, the young witch sketched in the details of Cordelia’s original wish. “When the alternate Giles broke her amulet, she got stuck in real Sunnydale, much to her chagrin. So, she found a naïve and poorly trained young witch to help her restore her powers.”

She paused and looked around. She had everyone’s attention. “For those of you who don’t have great observational skills, that was me.” She smiled at the memory. “Of course, I wasn’t the cool, collected Willow you see before you. Oh, no. I was shy, babbling Willow. A Willow who was having a very bad day.” She continued the story, touching on her pathetic attempt to storm off after the ‘Old Reliable’ comment and made sure to give a description of her Willow-wear for the day. “I know it seems kinda unimportant, but the clothes are a key element to the day’s developments,” she said to the group listening attentively.

***

Buffy finished telling Tara about Willow’s family and the truth about her magic. The blonde witch looked stunned.

“How did we not know this?” she asked the Slayer.

“As my sister would no doubt say, ‘Duh.’ We were too busy treating her like a magic junkie to look at any other options.” Buffy shook her head in disbelief. “At least you tried to help. Me, I just yelled and told her to move out.”

“Wow. I mean, if that warlock ripped her channels open, it’s no wonder she was using magic for everything.” She answered Buffy’s confused look with, “Her magic is tied to her emotions. Or, it is right now. That means she has no control. Even a stray thought would have some kind of magical result.” Tara went pale at the implications of that statement. “Dear Goddess,” she breathed, putting shaking hands over her eyes.

“Tara, what’s wrong?”

Without removing her hands, the witch replied, “The memory spells. I suddenly realized Willow may not have done them intentionally.”

“Oh, you mean she just thought about making everyone forget and it happened.” Buffy sat back in her chair. “It makes sense. It’s kinda like what happened right after Oz left the first time.” The Slayer had her own realization, then. “Wait a minute. You said memory spells, not spell. What other memory spell did Willow cast?”

The older blonde didn’t answer.

“Tara, what else did Willow do? Is it part of the reason you were so sure you would never get back together?”

With a sigh, Tara lowered her hands and looked at Buffy. “Yes. The spell that wiped all our memories was her second attempt at erasing memories. She tried the first one just on me after we had an argument.”

“What?!”

“I wouldn’t even have known, but Dawn heard our argument and commented on how glad she was we weren’t mad at each other the next morning. Goddess,” she lamented. “I gave her an ultimatum that day: either she stop doing magic or I would leave. She couldn’t do it. She only lasted about twelve hours, and I left. I left her, Buffy, and I never once asked why she used the magic or tried to help her find a way to control it. I just left.”

Buffy reached across the tiny table and took the crying girl’s hand. “We all made mistakes, Tara. We just have to find a way to fix things. Is there a way to help Wills get this stuff under control?”

“Y-yes,” Tara sniffed. “We ha-have to find her a teacher, another witch who can train her in controlling her emotions and her magic.”

“Can’t you do that?”

The witch laughed. “Maybe before the warlock speeded up her magical growth rate. But not now. Willow’s too strong for me. She’s always had amazing potential, and we were working on the proper controls.” She shrugged and looked away.

Buffy’s eyes narrowed. “You’re not telling me something.” Tara hid behind her hair and didn’t answer. “I wonder…Oh, my God, Tara. It was because she used Dark Magic to resurrect me, isn’t it? That’s when all of this got started.”


	3. Chapter 3

Buffy stared across the table at the curtain of blonde hair.  “Tara, what happened to Willow when she brought me back?” She fought to keep from screaming the words.

“I don’t really know, Buffy. But the spell she used called on the God Osiris. Sh-she was actually channeling him at one point.”

“How could you not know? Weren’t you there?

It didn’t seem possible, but Tara pulled even further into herself. “We were there, but Willow was really the only one involved in the spell. The r-rest of us j-just provided the props.”

“Could Osiris have done something to Willow during the spell?” Buffy felt cold, numbness spreading to all of her limbs. _Dear God, how do I fix this? She put her life, maybe even her soul, on the line to bring me back._

The witch finally raised her head. “It’s possible, Buffy, but I don’t think that’s what happened.”

“You don’t think? What’s that supposed to mean? Damn it, Tara, are you telling me that Will could be controlled by some God?” The Slayer thought she might be sick. Willow, her Willow, could _not_ be a reincarnation of Osiris. “If Osiris did do something to Will, wouldn’t there be some obvious thing that points out ‘I’ve been touched by Osiris?’”

“B-Buffy, I ca-can’t say for sure. It _is_ po-possible that some of Osiris’ essence got a hold on Willow. But, we knew going into the spell that possession was one of the risks. Willow and I did our best to set up wards. We used all the safeguards we could think of to protect Willow. It’s just with any casting things can go wrong.”

“Tara, not really wanting to interrupt, but what the hell is a ward?” Buffy clenched her teeth. _What the hell were they thinking when they did this spell? My God, no way am I worth this kind of risk_.

“Oh, sorry.” The blonde witch blushed. “It’s a magical, um, well force field. It keeps the witch protected from external magical forces. I’m pretty sure that Osiris wasn’t able to mark Willow.”

Buffy slumped in her chair at the statement. Some of the adrenaline rush slowing down at Tara’s reassurance. “OK. So, you don’t think Will’s problem started with Osiris. But,” her heartbeat picked up again, “you don’t know for sure. Is there a way to find out, once and for all? ‘Cause you do remember what happened the last time we fought a god?”

Tara paled and shuddered as memories of Glory surfaced. After a minute, though, she glanced at Buffy thoughtfully. “Um, I sup-suppose we could find someone to do a deep scan of Willow’s aura. Th-that would show if anything or anyone other than Willow was occupying her mind.”

Buffy sprang to her feet. _OK. Good. Now we have a plan. I do better with plans._ “Great. Who do we need to talk to?” She bounced impatiently on her toes, waiting on Tara’s answer.

The other blonde stared at her in shock. “It’s not that simple, Buffy.” She gestured at the chair next to the Slayer. “Please, sit down. Let me try and explain this a little more.”

Grimacing in irritation, Buffy dropped back into her seat. She crossed her arms and glared across the table at the older girl. “OK. Explain it to me slowly, in simple language,” she ground out. “What is wrong with Willow, and how do we fix it?”

Tara took a deep breath. “OK. I c-can do th-that. But you have to let m-me do this my way.” She caught the smaller girl’s eye. “No interruptions. No ch-charging off before we have an idea where w-we are going. No questions until I’m finished.” The witch sat back and waited for Buffy’s reaction.

The Slayer placed both shaking hands flat against the tiny table. She still wanted to do – something. Inactivity was not a Slayer’s friend. But Tara had a point. They really needed to figure out what was wrong with Willow and have a plan before moving forward.

***

Willow leaned toward the warmth of the fire and watched her audience. So far, so good. “Anyway,” she continued her story, “I bounced into the library and Giles, Xander, and Buffy just kinda stared at me. I mean, I was acting a bit giddy, but…As I got closer, all three of them rushed at me. Xander had this big cross Giles kept in the stacks in case of emergency. He holds it out and yells, ‘Back. Get back, demon.’ I just looked at him like he was possessed again, and he pulled the cross back and shook it a little. Like you do when your pen runs out of ink. Then he shoves it back in my face. I don’t know how long he would have stayed like that, but Buffy walked over with this scary look on her face. ‘Willow, you’re alive.’ I thought she was crazy, so I asked, ‘Aren’t I usually?’”

The redhead paused for effect. “Then things got really strange.”

A couple of chuckles floated out of the darkness outside the fire’s glow.

“Xander and Buffy grabbed me in a big hug. I mean, it wasn’t like we never touched each other, but I was pretty sure broken ribs were a possibility. Finally, they let go. And then Giles hugged me. Ribs be damned, all three of them were seriously freaking me out. So I asked, ‘Say, you all didn’t happen to do a bunch of drugs, did ya?’”

This time, outright laughter filled the night air. “Yeah, it was lame, but I didn’t know what else could be wrong with them. Finally, they explained about Vamp Me. Wow, I didn’t know what to say. It got worse, though. Angel came in and said I, or rather, Vamp Me had taken a bunch of hostages at the Bronze.” She shrugged slightly, staring at the hands resting on her knees. “We didn’t know what we were going to do with my alter-ego, but we couldn’t let her kill all those people. Buffy and the gang grabbed weapons and headed out. I stayed behind to check on something. That’s when the night went beyond weird and became big with the ewww.”

She took a sip of her beer. “Vamp Me was in the library and she had more than just killing on her mind.” Willow grinned in remembrance. “Seems my skanky, leather wearing double thought getting it on with me was a hot idea.”

Groans and shouts followed her last statement.

“Hey, not kidding. She kept purring and licking my neck. Do you have any idea just how disturbing that was?” she asked. “Anyway, she got kinda pissed when I turned down her offer to ‘be bad.’ Luckily, she threw me over the check out desk and I was able to get the tranq gun and shoot her. We locked her in the book cage and I couldn’t stop staring at her. I mean, it was me, but it wasn’t. I remember whispering to Buffy that my vampire self was so evil and kind of gay.”

Drew piped in from behind, “Wow, never saw that one coming.”

“Yeah.” Another voice chimed in. “Do we even want to know why there was a tranquilizer gun in the school library?”

She straightened out her legs, stretching. Morgan smiled encouragingly from one side. Willow glanced around the bonfire. Most of the people were in shadow. Her moms were cuddled close, watching her intently. “It was fairly obvious that Vamp Me didn’t mind a few sexual adventures. Real me, on the other hand, couldn’t say the word sex without blushing to match my hair.  To be honest, I think I was most wigged by the fact that my alter ego was at least bisexual if not openly gay. I was dating a guy at the time – a guy who happened to be a werewolf. In fact, he was the reason for the tranq gun.” Willow hoped that Alex was still in the crowd. If she still wanted to date after this little tale, she might not be shocked at the rest of Willow’s strange life. “Now I had to worry that maybe, just maybe, Oz wasn’t what I really wanted.”

The young witch realized silence had descended around the bonfire. _Oops. Forgot this was supposed to be lighthearted and funny. Time to move past my own sexual inadequacies_. “So, we left Vamp Me in the book cage, with one minor alteration. She was now wearing my pink fuzzy sweater with the row of daisies on the collar. And I was decked out in a herd-full of leather.” She zipped through the strategy session outside the Bronze, and didn’t slow down until she marched into the temporary vamp lair. “I sort of waved at the vampire who opened the door and chirped, ‘Hi, I’m back.’ If they had been even slightly smarter than shoe strings, I would have been dead right there.

Despite the humor of the remembered situation, Willow was starting to feel depressed. She missed the closeness she’d shared with Buffy and the gang. She didn’t want to disappoint her family, though, so she shook off her feelings, and continued. “Well, I did my best to keep everyone alive, but somehow Anya figured me out.” The redhead shrugged. “Must have been my idea to let all the hostages go and give them a 30 second head start before we hunted them down. It was a good plan!” she insisted to the audience. “But, no one else liked it. So, I was trapped in a nest of hungry vamps. I did the only thing a well trained Slayerette could do in that situation.” She paused for effect. “I screamed. Buffy and the gang came storming in and the vampires all went ‘poof.’”

“What about Vamp Willow?” someone shouted.

Willow couldn’t make out the speaker, but she was pretty sure it was Alex asking the question. “Ah, well, she got to the Bronze in time to kick my ass and nearly strangle me to death. Buffy saved the day, as usual. But, neither one of us could kill me, even Vamp Me. So we did a spell to send her back to her world. I think she was glad to leave; she said this world wasn’t much fun. Of course, she couldn’t leave without one last come on – she groped me when I gave her a hug.”

***

Finally finished with her tale, Willow leaned back and listened to a group of kids telling traditional ghost stories. The whole night felt surreal. She glanced around at her family. Her family – she still kept looking for Buffy and the Scoobies. She needed another drink. As the young witch stood up, the flickering orange from the fire dimmed and went grey. Time seemed to freeze. The redhead started to panic. The magic inside her built; she could feel the energy pulsing through her. Struggling to push the power back behind her shielding, Willow closed her eyes. It was no use. The energy swelled a final time; just at the point the redhead thought she might black out from the strain, the magic spewed out. 

Willow opened her eyes to more grey. But the shadowed world wasn’t the revelry at her parents’ ranch. The witch found herself standing inside the Espresso Pump in Sunnydale, watching her ex-girlfriend and her best friend.


	4. Chapter 4

The witch could see Buffy and Tara huddled close at one of the Pump’s tables. She wasn’t close enough yet to hear their conversation, but they both looked fierce. She moved toward the pair – or tried to move. It felt like she was swimming through clouds. The thick damp grey clung to her hair and clothes, impeding her progress. Finally, she reached a point only a few feet away from the Slayer.

_“You don’t think? What’s that supposed to mean?_

Buffy’s voice was strident, and Willow desperately wanted to know why her friend was so angry at Tara. She tried to move closer and reached out an ethereal hand. As she sought to touch the Slayer’s arm and get her attention, the world shifted again. With a sickening lurch and an almost audible pop, the redhead opened her eyes to the warm glow of the fire and a pair of worried green eyes. “Willow? Are you OK?”

Unable to answer, the young witch stared down at Jennifer Hirsch. She reached out a shaking hand and gripped the older woman’s arm. “Not sure,” she managed to say. She was suddenly freezing. A quick looked showed her clothing was damp. _It was real. I was actually there. What the hell just happened_? 

“Here, lean on me. Let’s get you inside.” Draping her daughter’s arm across her shoulders, the older redhead began leading Willow toward the house. Luckily, many of the guests were tucked away in darkened corners of the ranch, enjoying the evening. No one seemed to notice their slow trek across the yard. Opening the kitchen door, Jennifer urged Willow inside.

Still shaking from her experience, Willow slumped onto one of the stools at the breakfast bar. “Sorry,” she slurred. “I don’t really know what happened.”

“Your energy is fluctuating. Whatever it was had magic at its core.” Jennifer sat down next to Willow and watched her carefully. Her color was slowly coming back, the freckles fading back into the flush on her cheeks. “Can you at least describe what happened? Maybe we can figure it out together.”

“OK.” Closing her eyes and regaining her focus, Willow went on, “I got up for another beer. Took a not so smiley trip through memory lane during the walk. That’s when everything just faded into grey.”

“Faded how?” Jennifer reached out a tentative hand and lightly stroked her daughter’s still damp hair.

“It was like all of the color got sucked out of everything, like walking in shadows.” Turning her head a little and opening her eyes, Willow tried to smile. “I don’t think I was in Kansas anymore.”

“So everything faded and suddenly you were somewhere else,” her mother repeated.

“Not just any somewhere. Sunnydale. I was standing in the Espresso Pump watching Tara and Buffy talk.”

“Did they see you?”

“No. No one did. I don’t think they could. I could see and hear everything, but I’m not sure that I was really there.” Shaking her head in confusion, she met matching green eyes. “Does this make any sense? Am I going crazy?” A thread of panic seeped into her voice.

Responding instantly to the inherent need, the older redhead slipped off the stool and pulled a shaking Willow into her embrace. “No, no, baby. Not crazy.” Holding tightly to her daughter, Jennifer silently cursed the situation. A litany of “what ifs” followed. What if Kirstan had been there the day of the abduction? What if she’d been a better witch and could have found a way around the blocking spell? She knew Willow was close to a breakdown; unfortunately, teaching her the control she needed was going to be almost as traumatic as her current state.

“Sweetie, you really aren’t crazy. The magic is simply controlling you.” Pausing to make sure Willow was listening, Jennifer steeled herself for what lay ahead. “What you did tonight shouldn’t even be possible. With a thought, you shifted dimensions and translocated to Sunnydale. That kind of power, Willow, in a witch your age, is terrifying.” She tightened her hold when the girl in her arms tried to pull away. “I’m not letting you go, baby. I know you aren’t responsible for releasing the power, but if we don’t help you learn to control the magic, we will be responsible for the devastation that happens when you eventually lose control.”

“How? How do I stop this from happening? You just said I did all this with a thought!” Willow was frantic. Despite feeling drained and hollow, the young witch felt more magic surge through her channels.

Jennifer felt the rising power, too. Clamping down on her fear, she began softly chanting. Silvery mist rose from the ground, surrounding the two embracing forms. “Lock it down, Willow. Here’s your first big lesson. You know what’s happening; you can sense the magic growing. It’s a choice now – _your choice_. If you don’t put a lid on your power this time, you and you alone will be responsible for what happens.”

Nodding in understanding, Willow reached deep into memory and began an old meditation mantra she had learned from Jenny Calendar. Emptying her mind wasn’t possible, but she worked on gathering the fear and the power and flushing them slowly and safely from her channels. The mantra built upon itself, increasing the inner calm with each repetition. Five cycles into the chant, the young witch had calmed enough to see the brackish power clogging her magical pathways. Entwining those strands with newer, cleaner ones, she gave a mental push. It worked. Continuing the mantra cycles and sweeping the dark magic with purer power, Willow finally saw her system becoming clear.

With a heart felt sigh, she shut down her inner sight and returned her gaze to her mother’s. “It’s done.” It took far too much energy for those words. Even though she hadn’t moved so much as an inch in nearly thirty minutes, the mental exercise had drained her power reservoir. A reaction headache snaked through her head, just the leading edge of what was sure to be a debilitating migraine.

“I can tell.” Jennifer stepped back, dropping the arms that had steadied Willow during her inner struggle. Keeping her gaze impersonal, ignoring the strained face and the trickle of blood leaking from her daughter’s nose, the older witch said, “Tomorrow, we’ll start your training.”

***

Seeing that Buffy was cooperating, Tara said, “When Willow first started talking about bringing you back, she didn’t have a clue the amount and type of magic she would be channeling. Ignorance didn’t last long. Basically, Willow used the urn to force Osiris to resurrect you. Along the way, she faced a variety of magical tests. I think during these trials, Willow must have tapped into her potential somehow.”

The Slayer shifted in her seat, and the witch knew she was going to have to speed up the explanation. Buffy wasn’t going to last long with the silence. “When she broke open the magical reservoir, she triggered a chain reaction. The power she tapped would have been hers given time. She began using it before she had reached the right levels of training and maturity. That’s the reason we noticed the over-reliance on magic after you came back. A thought or a perceived need, and the magic just took care of things.” Tara caught the Slayer’s eye. “It is still possible that the opening was created by an essence nestled inside Willow. We can’t rule that out without having someone do a deep scan. There are too many possibilities, but those are the most likely scenarios.”

“OK. I get that. No absolute answers. But neither possibility explains what happened recently, with the withdrawal symptoms and her erratic behavior,” Buffy said.

Dropping her gaze to the trash on the table, Tara replied, “I think that’s where we get involved.”

“I’m not going to like this, am I?”

“Not in the least, sweetie.” The witch forced herself to meet the sad hazel gaze. “We kept telling her she had to stop ‘using,’ assuming she had a choice. Unfortunately, Willow didn’t have a choice. She wasn’t using external magical forces. The power flowed from her prematurely tapped power reserves. She couldn’t stop the flow because she didn’t know it was there.”

“But she did go to the power broker. She even took Dawn there. If she wasn’t a junkie, why did she need Rack?”

“She didn’t.” Tara paused to take a sip of her cold mocha. “She believed that she did. I convinced her to stop using after she did the first memory spell. Regardless of her power source, stopping meant withdrawal-like symptoms. I’m betting she freaked over the shakes and nose bleeds and rushed out to find a way to make them stop. Rack would have been the logical choice. He’s the only broker in Sunnydale and because of the Hellmouth, he has a frightening array of sources.”

Buffy looked stricken. “You’re saying she went to Rack thinking she needed a fix. Somehow, he sensed the power in her that we missed, didn’t he?”

Tara could only nod.

“Did he do something to Will? Is that why everything got worse afterwards?”

Pushing her hair behind an ear, the witch considered the question. “It makes sense, Buffy. If he tried to access her power and bleed the reservoir dry, Willow would have fought back. That might have widened the leak from her potential. Widen the break in the power barrier enough, and the magic would have flooded her channels.” Tara flinched just thinking about the energy ripping through the unprepared witch. “I’m surprised she survived. That kind of magical overload easily would have ripped the lining in her channels.” The Slayer raised an eyebrow in question, and Tara explained further. “It would have been like exposing all of her magical nerve endings and pouring boiling water on them.”

“The accident happened because she was in too much pain to control the magic.” This time, the Slayer connected the dots on her own. “She wasn’t drunk on magic; she was trying to get away from Rack.”

“It’s a good working theory, Buffy. But that’s all it is.” Tara grabbed the blonde’s hand. “We don’t have time to wallow in guilt. _If_ we’re right about any of this, then we have to help Willow learn to control the magic. That means finding someone who has enough power of their own to be safe in case she lashes out and well-trained enough to teach Willow how to manage the unleashed potential.”

“Is there anyone like that in Sunnydale?”

After running through a mental list of witches, Tara shook her head. “No one even close. The Hellmouth discourages most practitioners of White Magic. There’s too much temptation to tap into the raw energy in the area.”

“OK, then. I need to get home. I’ve got a phone call to make.” The Slayer smiled sadly. “It’s time to do some fence mending and hope Giles can forgive my being an ungrateful pain in his ass.”


	5. Chapter 5

Buffy walked Tara home and then headed back across town. The Slayer was anxious to make the phone call to England, but knew she needed to do some thinking before picking up the phone.  Cutting through Restview Cemetery, she revisited the conversation with the older witch.

 “ _We kept telling her she had to stop ‘using,’ assuming she had a choice. Unfortunately, Willow didn’t have a choice. She wasn’t using external magical forces. The power flowed from her prematurely tapped power reserves. She couldn’t stop the flow because she didn’t know it was there._ ”

The blonde dropped into the wet grass, sitting with her back against a headstone and let the tears flow. No matter how many times she tried to tell herself Will’s magical struggles weren’t her fault, she didn’t believe it. No way should the young witch have tried the resurrection spell. _What do I say to Giles? He’s the only one who might be able to help us. But he was so mad – no disappointed when he left._ Buffy knew she had hurt her former Watcher when she told him to leave. She had simply wanted to be free, to learn how to be an adult. The request hadn’t come out right, though, and, in the end, she had told the man she loved like a father that he wasn’t needed anymore.

It took a long time for the tears to stop. Buffy knew she wasn’t done grieving, but she was just too tired for the gut wrenching emotion. Standing stiffly, she quickly left Restview for the dubious comforts of home.

Entering the house, Buffy thought fleetingly of crawling into bed. She was too tired for the sure to be emotional talk with Giles. Shaking her head to ward off Avoidance Buffy, the blonde forced herself into the kitchen and picked up the phone. She climbed onto a stool at the counter and punched in the international code and number for Giles’ home in England.

The ring sounded far away and echoed. _Great. Not only do I get to grovel and explain just how much I’ve screwed things up, I get do it all on a bad connection_. Finally, after a dozen hollow rings, someone picked up the line.

“Hello?” The cool British voice was female. Definitely not Giles.

“Um, hi. I’m looking for Rupert Giles.” Even after seven years, it felt funny to call her Watcher by his full name.

“May I ask who’s ringing?” the woman asked.

“Sure. Tell him it’s Buffy.” _And hurry, before I chicken out and hang up_.

There was a slight hesitation on the line. Then a quiet, “One moment, please.”

“Thanks,” Buffy muttered. Jamming the phone between ear and shoulder, the Slayer slumped over the counter. Eyes closed she drifted, just this side of awake, waiting for the anonymous woman to bring Giles to the phone.

The blonde was nearly asleep by the time the ex-Watcher spoke. “Buffy? Is everything alright?”

 _Nope. Got it in one, Giles. You know I wouldn’t call just to talk; gotta be something bad happening_. “Hi, Giles. Um, no. I guess you were right. I’m not handling things very well on my own.” A sob tried to break free, but Buffy stubbornly fought it back.

“Tell me what’s happened,” he said.

The warmth and caring in his familiar voice dissolved her self control. The sob slipped free, followed by another. Choking the words out, the Slayer tried to explain. “It’s Will, Giles. Something happened to her when she did the resurrection spell. Tara thinks either some evil essence burrowed into her mind or she accidentally tapped into her magical potential and can’t control the power any more.”

“Good Lord. And Tara’s not sure which one actually happened?”

“No. When I talked to her last night, she said Willow had grown so powerful that she would have to consent to someone reading her aura. I…Giles…it gets worse,” Buffy continued.

She could tell by the silence on the line that the older man was restraining a pained sigh. “What else is happening, Buffy?” His voice was tight but controlled.

Buffy tried to answer, but couldn’t get the words out.

“My dear, I promise. I’ll do everything I can to help,” he said, sounding more like the father figure she needed. “Please, take a deep breath, and tell me what’s happening.”

“OK.” Buffy tried the deep breath. It helped – a little. “After the spell, Willow started relying on magic for everything. She used it to clean the house or get her laptop from her room. Tara tried to get her to stop, but Will just got mad. She was getting so powerful, Giles, it was scary. A couple of months ago, she did this spell. Tara called it the Tabula Rasa. Only something went wrong and we all lost our memories. When the spell was broken, Tara moved out. Will stayed here, but I was really angry. We all thought she was addicted to the magic and we wanted her to stop using.”

“Oh, dear,” came the often used phrase.

“Yeah. That about sums it up. We didn’t realize that she couldn’t stop the magic. And, Tara thinks Willow didn’t know either. She had some really freaky withdrawal symptoms and went to a local magic broker for help.” Buffy paused and swiped at the tears still streaming down her face. “I think that Rack – the broker – tried to tap into Will’s power and made widened the access to her potential. Tara said that could have ripped her channels open. Oh, God, Giles, I didn’t know. I swear I didn’t. But she got in an accident running from Rack and Dawnie got hurt. I lost it. I told her she had to move out.”

Now that the worst of the tale was out, the Slayer felt even more drained. It took all of her energy to hold the phone to her ear and wait for Giles’ response.

“Buffy, I can contact the Coven her in Devonshire. They’ll most likely have information on a witch who can help Willow.” His voice sounded hesitant as he then asked, “Would you like me to come to Sunnydale?”

For the first time since meeting with Tara, the blonde felt they just might be able to fix everything. “Yes. Please, Giles, I need you to come home.”

***

The knock at the door blended with the already-present pounding in her head. Trying not to breathe too heavily, Willow ignored the sound. Unfortunately, whoever was outside the door wasn’t smart enough to take the hint. The second knock was louder and longer than the first.

Slowly rolling out of bed, the groggy redhead stumbled across the room. Leaning against the wall, she pulled the door open and leveled a green glare at Kirstan. “What do you want?” she croaked.

“We start training this morning. You need to be out in the training shed in half an hour,” the tall woman said.

Willow laughed, until she realized it made her head hurt worse. “Sorry. Can we do it later? I’ve got a nasty migraine and just want to stay in bed until it’s gone.”

Her mother shrugged. “No. You’ll just have to ignore it. Jennifer told me what happened last night. You don’t have the luxury of waiting any more.”

“You’re joking, right? I mean, I can’t even stand up and you want me to go outside and let you pound on me? Not going to happen.” Pushing herself into a more or less upright position, Willow tried to close the door.

The retired Slayer easily kept the door from closing. “It _is_ going to happen, Willow. Now, not later. So you can either get dressed and walk down on your own, or I’ll toss you over my shoulder and carry you down in your sleepwear.”

“Oh, for Goddess, sake. Just go away.” Willow couldn’t believe this was happening. _Even Buffy was better than this. She just yelled a little and then went away to sulk._ Keeping a tight reign on her temper, she drew herself to her full height. “I am only going to say this one time. I am _so_ not going anywhere until this beastly headache is gone. I don’t want to be rude, but you’re out of your mind if you think I’d let you carry me anywhere.”

For just an instant, Willow thought Kirstan looked sad. However, she knew she had been mistaken when the brunette moved forward with Slayer speed and grabbed her around the waist. Before she could even feel surprised, the slight redhead found herself staring at her mother’s jeans-clad butt, bouncing with every step the woman took. The sudden motion combined with shock and anger left the usually verbose girl speechless. By the time she had regained the ability to form words, Kirstan was striding out the kitchen door toward a large barn.

Bright sunlight stabbed at Willow as she bounced against the older woman. “Oh, Goddess, please put me down. I’m going to be sick,” she moaned.

“Nope. I’ve helped raise four children – five, counting you. I’m not afraid of a little vomit. Besides, we’re almost there,” Kirstan said heartlessly.

The redhead didn’t respond, too busy trying to kept last night’s food and beverage from making an appearance. Sweat broke out all over her body as she fought her reaction to the bouncing and the light. After an eternity in hell, they entered the barn. Willow sighed in relief as the brightness dropped. Now, if only Kirstan would put her down.

Seconds later, she was reconsidering that idea. Her mother had removed her from the awkward position over her shoulder. But she hadn’t set Willow on her feet. Instead, she dropped her unceremoniously in a heap on the floor.

 _I’ve had just about enough,_ Willow snarled inwardly. She gave the older woman one last chance to avoid conflict. “Kirstan, I know you and Jennifer want me to train. I get it. I do. I’m just not up to it right now. Give me a few hours to get rid of the headache and I promise I’ll come right back here.”

“I told you already. You aren’t going to postpone this,” came the implacable reply.

The recumbent witch almost growled. _Fine. We’ll do this the hard way_. Drawing power from the ground, Willow snapped her right hand up, pointing at the brunette. At the same time, she chanted quickly in Sumerian. White light arched from her hand toward her mother – and bounced off an unseen barrier.

“You didn’t really think I’d come unprepared?” Kirstan said as Willow looked on in shock.


	6. Chapter 6

“Now, are you finished with the temper tantrum?” Kirstan stared impassively down at Willow. When the young witch didn’t answer, the ex-Slayer continued. “You’re biggest problem, daughter mine, is you have no discipline. You’ve been taking care of yourself for so long, you’ve forgotten how to let others care for you. That stops here. Jennifer and I are going to make sure you get this gift of yours under control.” She shrugged and dropped down to kneel next to the redhead. “It’s not going to be fun or easy. This morning is just a small taste of just how bad it will get.”

“Oh, goodie,” Willow responded sarcastically. “So, in an effort to whip me into shape, you’re going to put me through Wiccan Boot Camp?”

A reluctant smile touched the brunette’s lips. “If that’s what you want to call it. You are out of shape, physically and emotionally. It’s making it even harder for you to manage the power.” She touched the young girl’s arm. “Denise – sorry, Willow, if you don’t get all this taken care of, the power will consume you. I’m not about to let that happen without a fight. Even if that fight is with you.”  She stood again. “Jennifer warded me against your magic. She started warding the barn as soon as we came in. Right now, magic won’t work in here. Unless you can take me physically, you’re stuck here until I’m finished with you.”

Climbing slowly to her feet, Willow glared at the taller woman. “I want to get control of my power. But this,” she gestured at the large, open facility, “isn’t necessary. Just give me some time; I can do this on my own.”

“That attitude could kill a lot of innocent people,” Kirstan replied.

“I’m not evil. I don’t go around committing random acts of violence,” the younger girl exclaimed. “Hello! Slayer for a best friend! I help stop the evil.”

“You used to. The amount of power running through you right now will eventually end in tragedy. It’s already responding to your thoughts and emotions. How else do you explain your trip to Sunnydale last night? You told Jennifer you were thinking about Buffy and in the next instant you were standing right next to her. What if, instead of just wishing you were with Buffy, you got mad and wished she were dead? What would happen then?”

“That would never happen!” Willow couldn’t believe what her mother was saying. _Does she really believe I would ever do something like that?_

“Let’s test that idea.” Kirstan grabbed Willow’s shirt and effortlessly tossed her across the room. The redhead landed on a pile of wrestling mats, but the impact still hurt. She tried to get up, but the ex-Slayer had followed her, and sent her flying back to her original spot in the center of the barn.

Nearly blind from the pain in her head, the novice witch vomited helplessly. Curling in on herself, she lay on the floor waiting for whatever came next.

“Given up already? How was it you helped the current Slayer?” Kirstan towered over her. “Get up. You don’t get to just quit. You have to want to control your abilities.” Closing her eyes, Willow tried to ignore the other woman. Unfortunately, the ex-Slayer wasn’t going away. The sick and by this point frightened redhead found herself dangling several inches off the floor thanks to her mother’s hand tangled in the cotton shirt she wore. “You’re nothing, kid. I’m surprised the Slayer even wanted you around. Let me guess, she took pity on you because you were so pathetic and she’s been protecting you ever since.”

With that one sentence, Kirstan verbalized a fear Willow had nursed since the night Buffy had saved her from being bitten. Fear seemed to wake the quiescent magic in her body. Knowing any form of arcane attack was useless against the heavily shielded brunette holding her, she tried to stuff the magic back into her power reservoir. Although the flow slowed, it didn’t stop. _How the frilly heck do I stop this?_ The novice witch tried the mantra from the previous evening. It helped, but it wasn’t fast enough. The power build up was overshadowing her efforts at control. “Mom, put me down. Please, put me down and go.”

“You aren’t listening. I’m not going anywhere until you start trying to control your magic,” her mother replied.

“Damn it. I’m not talking about the fucking training. Right now you’re about to be on the receiving end of a magical Mack truck.” She took a deep breath and kept mentally chanting the mantra. “The shielding may hold and this might just bounce off. But it’s never been this bad before. I’m betting on it cutting right through whatever warding Jennifer used.” Willow felt her body start to shake in Kirstan’s grasp. She was sweating so heavily it dripped off her dangling hands. “I can’t –“ The warning broke off, becoming a hoarse scream as the power literally exploded out of the young girl.

Willow opened her eyes, peering through the blue wash of energy. Somehow, the ex-Slayer had managed to hang on, but she wouldn’t last for long. Already, the young witch felt her feet touch the floor, her mother’s fingers falling from her shirt. Where her power met Jennifer’s wards, silver sparks danced. She could faintly sense Jennifer’s power signature around Kirstan. It was weakening; it wasn’t strong enough to hold against the hurricane Willow had unleashed. She couldn’t let those wards fall. Closing her eyes again, the young witch abandoned the mantra. Reaching inside with ephemeral ‘hands,’ she shaped a dam out of the shattered remains of the barrier that had once contained her magical potential. Continuing to search for more mystical debris, Willow piled her newly constructed barricade at the widest part of the breach. There was an immediate drop in the magical energy slamming into Kirstan and the warding held.

Inside, though, Willow was still looking at the energy river pressing against the dam. It wasn’t a solid structure and power sluggishly oozed from the cracks in the materials. Anxiously, she waited, watching for the slightest give. Several minutes passed with nothing more than trickles of energy getting through. Letting go of her internal astral form, the witch opened tired green eyes. The barn had been mostly empty, but the few pieces of gym equipment had been thrown against the walls by the magical outpouring. Kirstan stood unsteadily in front of Willow, bleeding from shallow cuts caused when the redhead’s power had started to buckle the wards.

Wiping at the blood streaming from her nose, Willow said quietly, “Point taken. Can we do this training without all of the bullying now? The barrier I have up won’t hold under pressure.”

***

“It will take me a few days to get things settled here,” Giles answered Buffy’s heart felt plea.

With a tired laugh, Buffy said, “Giles, just knowing you’re coming home is enough right now. Is there something Tara and I should be doing until you get here?”

“I don’t think so, my dear. Until we know for sure what happened to Willow, you need to be cautious. If something did happen during the resurrection spell, we may very well be dealing with an ancient and powerful force.” There was a pause and the line crackled alarmingly.

“Giles, are you still there?” Buffy asked anxiously.

His voice very faint and garbled with static, Giles said, “Yes. I’m still on the line. I’ll start making arrangements to leave for Sunnydale by the end of the week. I can give Althenea a call today. If she has any contacts near to you, I’ll call immediately. Until you hear from me, I implore you not to confront Willow in any way.”

“OK, Giles. I don’t like the idea of leaving Will to deal with this on her own.” Buffy slid off the stool and grabbed a soda from the fridge. “I’ll make sure to let Dawn know what we’ve discussed. She’s had a better relationship with Willow than any of us these past weeks. I’ll try to get her to understand she needs to give Will some space.”

“That’s sounds like an excellent plan, Buffy. Now, you sound exhausted and it’s quite late there. Get some rest. I’ll call just as soon as I have information.” Giles was in full father mode, and the Slayer smiled just hearing the caring in his voice.

“OK, Giles. I’ll try.” She took a deep breath. “Thanks for always being there. I’ve really missed you.”

“And I, you, Buffy. Remember, I’ll always be by your side if that’s where you want me.” The faint voice sounded choked with emotion.

“Good night, Giles.” Buffy hung up the phone and headed for the stairs. She knew that she wouldn’t sleep even as tired as she felt. Since being back, all she got for her efforts were nightmares. She climbed the stairs and quietly opened the door to Dawn’s room. The younger Summers was sound asleep. Closing the door gently, Buffy returned to the first floor and wearily stretched out on the couch. She would rest here until Dawn got up. She didn’t want to miss warning her sister about the situation with Willow. Closing her eyes, the Slayer worked on relaxing her muscles one at a time. 

***

When the telephone rang, Buffy shot off the couch, heart pounding. Breath ragged, thoughts scattered, she tried to make sense of where she was. The phone rang again. 

“Hey, Buffy, are you going to answer that?” Dawn’s voice floated down the stairs.

The blonde staggered toward the kitchen. “Yeah, Dawnie. I’ve got it.” She grabbed the handset as a third ring sounded. “Hello?”

“Good morning, Buffy.” The warm British voice steadied her.

“Oh, hey, Giles.” She glanced around the kitchen. The clock read 7:30. “Were you able to get in touch with that friend of yours?”

“That’s why I’m calling.” Giles seemed hesitant and the Slayer felt a familiar sinking in her stomach.

 _Please, Giles, tell me there’s a way we can help Will. All this happened because of me. I don’t have to even say anything about how I feel, just, please, let me fix this,_ she pleaded silently. Aloud, she asked, “What did you find out?”

From the length of the pause that followed, Buffy knew her Watcher was trying to find a good way to phrase the news. “Well, there are a couple of things, Buffy. First, Althenea said there is a powerful and experienced witch living not far from Sunnydale.”

“That’s of the good, Giles,” Buffy interrupted. Her sense of impending doom increased. “But, I think you’re holding out on me. My Slayer senses are screaming. What new apocalyptic bad did you discover?”

A sighed traveled along the line. “Buffy, I don’t even know how to begin.”

“Just say it, Giles. After all this time, I don’t think sugar coating really helps. How bad is it likely to get?” Buffy gripped the handset until it creaked under the pressure.

“I was doing some research on magical possession in case something did, in fact, leave a mark on Willow.” _Just get to the point, damn it, Giles,_ Buffy screamed in her mind. Giles continued at his own pace, though. “In one of the oldest volumes on the subject, I found several references to demonic possession as well as enhancing magical potential.”

Buffy couldn’t take it anymore. “Giles, please. Stop explaining how you found out. Just tell me what’s coming.”

“I don’t really know what’s coming, Buffy,” Giles said. “However, it appears Willow’s magical growth has been preordained. She’s part of a very ancient prophecy.”


	7. Chapter 7

Shaking her head to get rid of the annoying buzz, Buffy said, “I’m sorry, Giles. Can you repeat that? For some reason, it sounded like you said Will’s part of a prophecy.”

The Watcher’s voice was quiet, but not because of the quality of international phone lines. “Buffy, my dear, when Willow performed the resurrection spell, she became a part of a very old prophecy. The records aren’t very clear on what exactly is foretold, but I am scouring the Council library to find even the smallest bit of information.”

It was too much. Buffy felt the world begin to fade, her vision narrowing to a single point of distant light. She was no longer aware of her body. Dimly, she heard a man’s voice talking, but his words didn’t make sense.

“Buffy?! Buffy!” The shout gave her a place to focus. The Slayer slowly forced back the darkness edging her vision. Dawn leaned against one of the stools at the counter, staring at her.

“Hang on a second, Giles,” she muttered into the handset. Buffy was glad for once to see her bratty sister. Having her name bellowed from just a few feet away kept the Slayer on her feet and not on the ground in a faint. “Yeah, Dawnie, what do you need?”

With her patented ‘you’re so dumb’ look firmly in place, the teen said, “Breakfast? I know you feel challenged in the kitchen, but I’ve had cereal for, like, the last 200 days in a row.”

The older Summers was far too tired and freaked out to waste any time on a response. “Sorry, Dawn. You’ll just have to eat it for the 201st time. I’m on the phone with Giles.”

She nearly dropped the phone to grab her ears at the piercing shriek following her announcement. “Dawn, going deaf here. Turn the volume down!” Buffy shouted over the noise.

Glaring, Dawn ended the tonal sound and asked, “Can I talk to Giles, please?”

“Maybe next time, Dawnie.” Looking pointedly at the clock, she said, “Don’t you need to be at school in ten minutes?” Her sister flushed and mumbled something under her breath. “Don’t argue, Dawn. Just get ready and go already.” The Slayer’s voice was harsh.

“Whatever,” the younger girl snapped, flouncing out of the room.

Buffy dismissed her sister from her mind and got back to the business at hand. “Giles, sorry about the interruption. I missed that last part. What did you say?”

“My dear, perhaps I should fly out sooner than originally planned,” he responded.

“No, no, we’ll be OK for another few days. You said something about checking the Council records. What have you found so far?” Buffy needed to know.

Thanks to her Slayer hearing, Buffy could hear pages being turned through the phone line. “Not much, I’m afraid. There is a reference to a great Evil being unleashed into the world after a powerful witch open’s a gate to the heavens.”

“OK, so, Willow is the witch.” The blonde couldn’t quite make herself ask Giles if her best friend was actually the great Evil. “Does it say what this evil is or what it’s going to do?”

Her ex-Watcher sighed. “That’s not clearly stated. It’s a very old codex and not in the best shape. Much of the text relating to the prophecy is damaged and illegible. However, I do have a few remaining friends on the Council, and they are doing everything they can to help locate another copy or reference. Althenea is going to consult a seer in the area as well. We are doing everything possible, my dear. I assure you I am equally distressed that Willow may be in danger from this unnamed evil.”

“I never doubted it, Giles. Despite my habit of stuffing my feet in my mouth on a regular basis, I’ve always known you cared for all of us. Stay there and take the flight you’ve already scheduled. I’ll do a little scouting and research on my end. Keep in touch, though, in case either of us finds something.” Saying goodbye, Buffy closed the line, but did not return the phone to the wall. Tapping a finger against her lips, she debated for long minutes before dialing another number.

***

Keeping a hand pressed against her nose in an attempt to staunch the steady stream of blood, Willow waited for an answer to her question. Finally, it came, but not from the exhausted ex-Slayer in front of her. “I’m more certain than ever we can’t put off your training,” Jennifer announced from the doorway.

If she hadn’t been so tired and in so much pain, the young redhead might have considered screaming and stomping her feet in frustration. What was wrong with these people? She had agreed to the training before her astral trip to Sunnydale and her impromptu imitation of the comic book character Storm. Clamping down on the emotion and doing another spot check of the dam restraining her magic, Willow said, “For the last time, I am not refusing or resisting the idea of being trained. The opposite in fact. I’m begging you to help me. But do we really need to start this very second, when I can barely see from the reaction headache, blood is pouring from my nose, and I’m in my sleep clothes?”

Jennifer started to reply but Kirstan broke in. “Go ahead and get cleaned up. You had enough control to pull that last power explosion, so I don’t think we’re in immediate danger. You’re keeping an eye on whatever block you have on the energy?” Willow nodded. “OK. Then we meet back here in thirty minutes.”

It was too short a time in the young witch’s mind, but she didn’t believe for a second her parents would extend the break. Without a word, she slipped from the barn and trudged back to the house. Showering on auto-pilot allowed her the opportunity to examine just what had happened with Kirstan. Intellectually, Willow knew that Rack had somehow accelerated her magical growth. But magic didn’t really come with an owner’s manual. She could only hope that Jennifer and Kirstan would have some answers. Tossing on a clean pair of jeans and a T-shirt, Willow rushed back out to the barn.

This time, entering the training facility was far less traumatic. Kirstan was cleaning up the last of the scattered equipment, but the young girl saw no sign of her other parent. “OK, I’m back. Where’s Jennifer?” she asked, still having a hard time calling two women ‘mom.’

“She went to tell Morgan and Drew not to disturb us. With all of us underfoot here at the ranch, it takes some doing to keep anyplace locked down.” Kirstan wiped some dirt off her cheek and sat down on a weight bench. “Before things get intense again, I wanted to apologize for earlier.”

Smiling slightly and relaxing, Willow said, “Guess I can let it slide this once. Just, don’t make a habit of it, OK? Me and mornings, not a good mix at the best of times.”

Kirstan’s green eyes sparkled with mischief. “Must run in the family. Jenny is a real bitch before her morning coffee.”

“Hey, I heard that!” Jennifer’s voice floated in from the door. “I seem to remember a certain Slayer whining like a three year old when she had to get up for morning classes.”

Willow watched the byplay with interest. The two women seemed very comfortable with themselves and each other. A memory of Tara stabbed at her and she frowned. A tingle of power tested the energy barrier.

Jennifer felt it, too, and glanced at her daughter sharply. “Willow? Everything OK?”

“OK? No. Under control? Yes.” The younger witch sighed quietly. The barrier was still holding though the cracks were widening. “Before you get all Drill Sergeant on me again, I think we need to talk. So far, you’ve seen me at my worst. I’m really not crazy all the time. I just need to understand what is happening to me and deal.” She looked shyly at the two women. “Plus, it would be nice to get to know you both better.”

The moment was heavy with emotion. Looking a bit teary-eyed, Kirstan cleared her throat. “We’d like that, too. And even though this morning was rough, Jenny and I want to help.” She grasped the older witch’s hand. “Let’s get comfortable and share some stories.” In companionable silence, the three women piled mats and foam pillows together, making a cozy nest a corner of the training facility.

When all of them were stretched out, Willow hesitantly started. “Although I’d love to let you do most of the talking, the barrier won’t last for more than a few days at most. Let me fill you in on what I ‘saw’ as I put it in place and we can go from there.” She shifted around, trying to decide just where to start and how much of the sordid story she wanted to tell. Lips twisting bitterly, the young witch knew is was time to tell the whole story. “I don’t know how much information you get from the Council, Kirstan, so I may repeat things you’re familiar with.” She flicked a glance at the two women. “Buffy died last year. Not really an odd occurrence for Slayers in general, and Buffy’s done it before. This time, though, she was permanently dead. I didn’t handle it well. She’d sacrificed herself to close a portal to a hell dimension and I couldn’t get past the fact that maybe she’d ended up in hell, too. Long story short, I bullied the other Scoobies into helping me find a way to resurrect her.”

She could feel Kirstan’s shock and Jennifer’s unease. “Whatever you’re imagining, the reality was worse. Tara, my ex-girlfriend, is a really powerful White witch. Even though she was against the whole thing, when I found a spell she helped me set up safeguards to keep the evil from getting a foothold in my mind. After Buffy had been dead for six months, I cast a resurrection spell using the Urn of Osiris. A lot of the incantation is a blur, but I do remember passing a bunch of magical tests. I willingly used Black Magic to give me the power base I needed to force Osiris to resurrect Buffy. It worked. She came back – a little different – but back. That’s when things got really wrong. I started to use magic for everything. I was addicted to the rush of the power.”

The redhead could feel tears streaming down her face and it was hard to get the words out. Sitting up and wrapping her arms around her knees, she forced herself to continue. “Tara told me I had to stop. I tried, but the withdrawal symptoms were so bad…She started really pushing, too, and it made me mad. We argued and I used a Tabula Rasa spell to wipe her memory. She found out, though. Now I had an ultimatum. Quit or lose her. I swore I would go cold turkey.” A harsh laugh ripped from her throat. “I didn’t even last a day. Only this time, I expanded the scope of the spell and used it on the whole gang. Big time problems happened. Tara left, Buffy freaked out, and this time I told myself that I would succeed in quitting magic.”

Wishing she’d thought to stock up on Kleenex, Willow mentally shrugged and used her shirt sleeve to mop up the tears and her runny nose. “I was doing OK, this time, but the withdrawal was intense. Nose bleeds, migraines, shakes, and the constant temptation to use the power I sensed in everything. I got desperate. A couple of weeks ago, I needed a fix and couldn’t ignore the pull. I went to a wizard in Sunnydale named Rack.” She shuddered as she remembered him taking over her mind, drawing at her power reserves. “He didn’t want to help me; he used me to fill his own reserves. I got away, but he did something when he was in my mind. Until this morning, I didn’t know what had happened.”

“Now you do?” Jennifer broke her silence to ask.

“I’ve got an idea, anyway. When I projected inward, I noticed there was a hole in the wall closing off my potential. Um, OK, not a hole. It looked like I’d used C4 to blow half of it away.” Willow struggled to find the words to explain. She glanced at her mother to see if she followed the description.

The older redhead nodded slowly. “So, you think Rack tore down the barrier and released your potential. That would explain the sudden, drastic growth in your power levels.”

Willow really wanted to stop right there, to let the other witch believe that was the problem. But she felt compelled to go on. “No, Jennifer,” she said, meeting the woman’s green eyes. “I knew Rack had tapped my potential and accelerated my magical growth. When I was grabbing debris to build the new barrier, I noticed that some of the rubble was older than my trip to Rack’s shop. I think he exploited a hole that was already there. I think something else started the destruction, probably during the resurrection spell.”


	8. Chapter 8

It was quiet in the barn while the older women absorbed Willow’s last statement. Finally, Jennifer asked, “You think the original damage to your potential happened during the casting?”

“I think so. It’s not like I can carbon date the magical debris. It just felt a little like the power signature the Urn gave off.” Willow watched the older witch warily.

“OK,” her mother nodded. “Let’s start there. If, during the testing, something was able to sneak through the barriers, we’re dealing with two likely possibilities.”

“Possession and power drain,” the young girl offered.

Kirstan sat up. “You mean something could have taken over your mind without anyone knowing?” She looked angry.

“Yes. During a casting of that magnitude, an entire army of evil could have entered Willow and not set off any alarms. But, if she used wards, then the list of suspects gets a lot smaller.”

“Mom’s right, Kirstan.” She shot a quick look at the experienced witch. “The wards Tara helped me put up were strong. In fact, I didn’t honestly think there was any danger of anything getting by them.” Shrugging, the redhead said, “Obviously, I was wrong.”

Jennifer looked intently at her daughter. “We need to act fast to discover if there is anything still entwined in your mind, Willow.”

“Yeah, I kinda thought you might say that.” Having this woman, a stranger despite their blood tie, poking around in her mind knotted her stomach. But Willow didn’t have the luxury of refusal. The magic was far too strong and out of control to walk away. “If there isn’t anything there, can you also check for a residual signature? Just because there’s nothing there now, doesn’t mean it wasn’t there in the past.”

The older witch stood up. “We’re going to have to move this inside.”

“Let me guess,” Kirstan said, letting her wife drag her to her feet, “incense, candles, and mystical chanting?”

Jennifer chuckled; although, it sounded strained. “And a few more ritual activities, too. To be safe, I’m going to want to use the Altar Room since it’s already heavily shielded.”

Sick with dread, Willow barely hear the commentary. _I wonder if I could use all my new power to turn back the clock and start today over again?_

“Hey, kiddo, you gonna make me carry you out of here, too?” The ex-Slayer stood over her distracted daughter. “Willow? Is everything OK?” She noticed the young girl looked almost scared.

Pushing the dangerous thoughts out of her head before the untamed magic actually tried the maneuver, Willow replied, “No, I’m good.”

Kirstan gave a sharp laugh.

“Well, OK, ‘good’ might be an overstatement.” Willow climbed to her feet, the change in position causing the pounding in her head to worsen. “Let’s get this over with before I change my mind and run screaming through the front gate.”

The brunette grabbed the young witch in a gentle hug. “I’m sorry, sweetie.” Her voice was husky with emotion. “So very sorry. If I’d just been there-“

“Kirstan – _Mom_ , don’t…This isn’t your fault.” The shorter girl said. She leaned into the strong arms, tilting her chin so she could meet the green eyes above her. “You didn’t do anything wrong. And, let’s put the blame where it really lies. _I’m_ the one who thought Black Magic was fine as long at the results were well-intentioned. Tara and Giles tried to warn me, but I was too arrogant to listen.”

A weapons-roughened hand touched her cheek. “Still, the kidnapping should never have happened.”

This time, Willow provided the comfort by burying her face in Kirstan’s shirt and wrapping her arms tightly around the older woman. After a few minutes, she pulled away. “We should probably head inside.” Reluctance dripped from each word. “One run-in with impatient Hirsches is enough. Don’t let go, though, OK? I wasn’t completely kidding about the running thing.”

“Not going to happen, daughter mine. You’ve been supporting a Slayer; you aren’t a coward. And, if it all gets too much, Jenny and I have your back.” They turned to walk toward the house. “Given enough time to get to know you, Morgan, Dorian,  and Drew will help out, too.”

Latching onto a less depressing subject, Willow asked, “Are all of my sisters witches, too?”

“Yes.” Kirstan sighed and then clarified. “They have the potential, but none of them is a practicing witch.”

“Are you disappointed?” The redhead thought about the Rosenbergs and their expectations.

“Oh, no.” The ex-Slayer sounded surprised. “Morgan is far too interested in her music and can’t commit to the demands of training with Jennifer. We gave her the basics when she was growing up, so she’s not a wild talent. Dorian has only a little potential. She’s content to work the ranch and help out wherever she can. And Drew is…well, she’s just Drew.”

“Hello? Newly-returned daughter here. What does that mean, exactly?” Willow asked as they entered the house.

Smacking the red head lightly in response to the sarcastic phrasing, the brunette said. “Drew is a double potential. She can’t make up her mind which Calling to answer. For now, she’s training in both, but eventually she’ll have to make a choice: Witch or Slayer.”

They had reached a semi-hidden doorway at the back of the house. Willow followed Kirstan through and began to descend the revealed staircase. “So Drew has double the normal potential? I don’t understand. And, how can she choose to be a Slayer, isn’t that sort of decided by the PTBs when the current Slayer dies?”

“I thought you said your best friend was a Slayer? Didn’t her Watcher explain that there are thousands of potential Slayers all over the world?”

***

 _Wonder if the DMP would hire me back part time? This month’s phone bill is going to be a doozy_ , the tired Slayer thought, waiting for someone to answer the call she’d made.

 “Angel Investigations, we help the helpless,” chirped a familiar voice.

 “Hey, Cordy. It’s Buffy. Can I talk to Angel?”

 Silence.

 “Cordy? I know you’re still there, I can hear you breathing.” Buffy fought to keep from snapping. “We’ve…There are some problems here I need to talk with Angel about. Is he there or not?”

“No, actually, he’s not here.” The Slayer cocked her head. The ex-Scooby sounded unbelievably exhausted.

“Everything OK? I mean, our Big Bad isn’t here yet, just on the way. I could drive up if you needed some extra muscle,” Buffy offered.

A warm chuckled rumbled over the line. “We’ve got the muscle covered. I’m not sure having you and Faith in the same location would help our situation.”

The blonde nearly dropped the phone. “Oh, my, God! Faith’s there? Is Angel going after her? I thought she was in prison.”

“Buffy,” the Seer’s voice said quietly, “I’d love to gossip and catch up on the current event, but I need to get back to work. Here’s the Reader’s Digest version. There a really creepy evil demon here. We made a bad call and summoned Angelus to help kill it. The vase-thingy we were holding Angel’s soul in was stolen. Now, we have Angelus _and_ the other demon on the loose. Wes broke Faith out…Faith broke out of jail when Wes told her what was going on. She’s helping with the problems here.” The prom queen-turned-private investigator paused and Buffy could hear her talking to someone in the distance. “Hey, Wes wants to know if Willow can come out and do the Romanii Curse to restore Angel’s soul.”

Putting her back to the kitchen wall and sliding down to sit on the floor, the Slayer answered. “Sorry, Cordelia, Willow’s out of town right now.” _Damn, I really wanted Angel’s help on this one, but they’ve got enough to deal with._ Then another thought occurred. “You know, Will always kept a ‘get Angel’s soul back’ kit around here somewhere. I’ll talk to Tara; maybe she could drive to L.A. and do the spell.”

“Would you?” The Slayer thought the brunette was going to cry; her voice sounded choked with emotion.

“Sure. I’ll head over to her place in just a few minutes. Hey, umm, is Faith with you right now?”

Cordelia again pulled away from the phone. “Sorry, Buffy. Wes says she’s out crawling through the sewers looking for information. Do you want me to have her call you?” The Seer sounded hesitant.

 _Hell, I feel hesitant. The last time we ‘talked’ was on the roof of Angel’s office right before she turned herself in_. Still, the Slayer felt driven to help Willow and defeat whatever evil was on its way. “Yes, please, Cordy. Tell her…tell her I really need her help, and I’m willing to do whatever groveling is necessary to convince her to come to Sunnydale when your Big Bad is taken down.”

“I’ll see what I can do. I mean, it is Faith we’re talking about,” the other woman replied, before ending the call.

The eldest Summers stayed huddled on the floor long after the call was over. Cold seeped  into every part of her body. He mind moved sluggishly. Finally acknowledging that sitting in the kitchen wasn’t helping anything, she climbed to her feet. _Thank God I requested a personal day for today. I would so have ended up fired if I’d gone to work._ Forcing herself to action, Buffy walked up the stairs.

On leaden feet, she continued her trek into her mother’s old room – Willow’s room. Bare walls and a stripped bed greeted her entrance. She hadn’t thought about cleaning up in here since her best friend had moved out. With mental fingers crossed, the Slayer opened the closet door, hoping to find the redhead’s magic ‘toy box.’ Sure enough, the small wooden box sat abandoned on the shelf. Pulling it down and flipping the latch, Buffy glanced inside. Items had obviously been removed with haste as Willow packed, but the blonde recognized several pieces needed to incant the Curse. Closing the box with a sigh the Slayer made a mental list of things to do: talk Tara into going to help Angel; talk to Dawn about Willow; and do some information gathering on the coming evil.


	9. Chapter 9

An hour later, Buffy jogged up the stairs of Tara’s residence hall. She’d spent the entire walk to the UC-Sunnydale campus practicing and discarding possible conversations with the blonde witch. Bouncing on the balls of her feet, the Slayer rapped sharply on the older girl’s door. Faint rumblings indicated someone was inside, but several minutes passed without anyone answering her knock. Trying again, Buffy called out, “Hey, Tara? I talked to Giles. Looks like the situation is even stranger than we thought.”

Finally, the door opened a crack. A woman who was not Tara peered through small opening. Eyes widening, the blonde cast a frantic look at the door. _Yep, I’m at the right room. Fuck…_ ”Hi, is Tara in?”

“She went to grab some breakfast.”

_Someone obviously doesn’t like mornings._ “Um, alright. Thanks. I’ll just wait out here,” Buffy stammered. “Sorry if I woke you up.” She flashed a smile.

The tousled brunette grunted and slammed the door.

Shaking her head, the Slayer sat crossed legged against the wall to wait. The woman in Tara’s room was a complete surprise. A good surprise. The blonde witch was a definite rival if they managed to help Willow with her magic and fight off the new evil in town. Buffy did an internal happy dance and let her mind wander to thoughts of her favorite redhead. No matter her inner joy, the blonde couldn’t keep memories of the more recent past from darkening her mood. Images of happy, smiling, fuzzy-sweater wearing Willow disappeared in a wave of mental reruns of the last argument.

To stave off another round of “how could I be so stupid,” she shot to her feet and paced up and down the hall. Thankfully, mid mornings seemed to be a quiet time, and she only received a few strange looks from the handful of residents heading out for the day. The blonde was so focused on replaying her argument with her best friend she didn’t see Tara come out of the stairwell.

“Buffy? What are you doing out in the hallway?”

The Slayer spun quickly and dropped into a defensive stance at the unexpected question. Seeing the amused look in the witch’s eyes, she straightened slowly. “Damn, Tara. I could have really hurt you.”

The older girl dropped her head and hid behind her hair as usual when confronted. “I th-thought you knew I was th-there.” She peered at the other girl. “You didn’t answer my question. Why are you in the hall?”

Blushing, Buffy said, “I knocked. Your guest didn’t seem too thrilled to see me.”

“My guest? Oh!” Tara started laughing. “Buffy, you thought –“

Nodding awkwardly, Buffy mumbled, “Um, yeah.”

Wrapping her free arm around the shorter girl, the witch steered her companion back toward her dorm room. “Sweetie, Paula’s a witch. We were up until really late trying to find someone in the area who could scan Willow.”

Buffy stopped in the middle of the hallway. “You told her about Will?”

“For Goddess sake, Buffy, no!” The normally shy blonde looked angry. “I just told her I needed to find someone to help me train and expand my powers. She’s got some great connections to the local covens.”

“Sorry, Tara. It’s just, I talked to Giles. There’s a lot I need to tell you.”

Staring at the suddenly very serious Slayer, the witch said, “OK. Let me drop off breakfast and let’s find someplace to talk.”

“Don’t you have class?”

“Hmmm, class or saving Willow?” Disbelief colored her next words. “How could you think for even one minute I would go to class if you had information?”

“I-,” Buffy hesitated. “Hell, Tara, I…Fuck. I’m sorry. The stuff Giles found out isn’t of the good and I’ve been kinda lacking with the coping skills.”

Frowning and looking concerned, Tara said, “Stay here, sweetie.” She unlocked and eased open the door to her room. Sliding through the narrow opening, the witch disappeared. Buffy could hear the rumble of conversation as she waited impatiently in the hallway, but didn’t make the effort to listen closely. A few minutes later, Tara reappeared and joined the Slayer on the other side of the door.

“Let’s take a walk, OK?” The older girl asked.

“Sure. I need to burn off some energy, anyway.” Buffy turned toward the stairs. “Were you and…um…Paula able to find anyone to help Will? ‘Cause Giles said someone named Althenea had given him a name, too.”

“No, we couldn’t find anyone I thought was strong enough,” Tara chuckled mirthlessly. “Paula thought I was crazy. I mean, all I told her was that I wanted a mentor. I don’t think she bought my explanations for why the witches she knew wouldn’t work.”

The witch tilted her head at the slightly distracted Slayer as the exited the building and headed away from the main portion of the campus. “Hey, Buffy, you OK?”

“Yeah, I’m fine.”

Tara remained silent as they passed the last of the dorms and took the narrow trail leading into a wooded area surrounding the university. Finally, when the Slayer didn’t say anything more, the witch realized she would have to push for answers. “No, you’re not fine. You haven’t been fine since you closed the Portal.” Seeing the smaller blonde start to protest, she continued. “Do you eat anymore? Do you sleep? If we hadn’t all been so wrapped up in Willow, no one could have missed the changes in you.”

Buffy concentrated on her boots and fought back tears. “I’ve been trying to get back in the swing of things. But I’m not the one we need to worry about right now. We have to help Will.” The words came out too shrill; the Slayer was on the edge of a breakdown. Trying one of the meditation techniques Giles had taught her years ago, Buffy managed to regain some of her equilibrium. “Look, Tara, the situation is bad – maybe worse than Glory bad.”

“Oh, Goddess. What did Giles tell you?”

Stuffing her hands in her jeans pockets, the younger blonde explained, “Not much. He’s digging through the Council library, but he was able to find an old book or something. Will’s new powers are part of a prophecy.”

Tara stopped and simply looked at the Slayer. “Please tell me you’re joking.”

“Nope. This is so not a joke-worthy event. He said the book was damaged and hard to read, but he thinks something happened when you guys brought me back. Now, Willow’s all juiced up and there’s a really big evil on its way here.”

***

Willow’s foot missed the next stair in shock at her mother’s statement. “Kirstan, the Council knows who these girls are?”

“Of course.” She didn’t stop or turn around, simply tossing the words over shoulder. “What did your Slayer’s Watcher tell you about her Calling?”

“Um, the usual…You know: ‘One girl in all the world…’”

“That’s it? My Goddess. It’s a wonder she managed to survive this long. You, too.” The ex-Slayer reached the bottom and waited for the redhead to catch up. “The Potentials are carefully watched and screened by Watchers almost from birth. If there’s a Slayer in the area, they often have them begin training the girl – or girls – in how to use their eventual powers. Some of the kids won’t ever be Called; they’ll just grow up a little stronger and faster than most. Others are marked as Slayers in Training. Generally, the S.I.T.s don’t have a choice in vocation. Drew is being allowed to decide because her magical potential is almost as strong as her Slayer potential.”

Grasping Willow’s hand, the older woman drew her into a large open room with a low stone alter near the far wall. Candles blazed from every surface and real torches sputtered on the walls. “Oh, hey, you have your own dungeon,” the young witch said.

“Not, quite,” Jennifer greeted her with a hug. “This is my Altar Room.”

The younger witch asked, “Aren’t you Jewish?”

Kirstan laughed and Jennifer glared at her before shaking her head. “My parents were. I’m a witch and I am also Wiccan.”

Slowly putting two and two together, Willow said. “So, you took Jennifer’s name.” At Kirstan’s wink, the young girl giggled. “I could go to City Hall and make that explanation now. How in the world did you do it, what, 20 years ago?”

Jennifer interrupted before the ex-Slayer could respond. “It’s all part of the famous ‘how we met’ story.” Turning her daughter to face the altar, she said, “Right now, we have some work to do.”

Closing her eyes and swallowing against a sudden surge of nausea, Willow agreed. “Right. Sorry. What’s going to happen?”

“We’re throwing Kirstan out, first off. She can guard the door.” The young witch felt certain the brunette would be doing double duty – keeping people out of the Altar Room and any evil forces _in_. “I’ll cast a circle around the two of us and start incanting the spell. As you mother noted, it requires some ritual regulars like incense and chanting. But the actual search I’ll do of your mind and magical pathways is very straightforward. You will need to pull all of your shields down once the circle is cast.”

“OK.” Willow was surprised her voice still worked.

Jennifer’s voice sounded behind the younger redhead. “Can you head up the stairs, babe? Make sure the kids stay well away. And,” she hesitated slightly, “don’t forget the recognition signs.”

“Be careful.” The ex-Slayer sounded worried, but Willow heard soft footsteps leaving the chamber.

“Willow, go ahead and move to the center of the Circle,” Jennifer directed.

Reluctantly opening her eyes, Willow looked around. The floor of the chamber had a stone floor. Green glass had been inset into the stone, forming a permanent circle. She walked into the center and stood, waiting.

Her mother grabbed items from a small table and joined her inside the ring. Laying the tools on the Alter, the older witch bowed her head and murmured a prayer. She moved to the glass marking the very edges of the Circle and stopped. Raising her hands she began to chant in a language Willow didn’t recognize. Power shimmered along the inset design before rising in an unbroken curtain to the ceiling. Unlike the magic shielding with which the younger girl was familiar, the Circle Jennifer had cast looked solid. The young witch could not see through the waves of power surrounding her.

Motionless inside the Circle, she watched Jennifer return to the altar. The older redhead picked up a wooden bowl and an athame. Holding an item in each hand, the woman turned and paced silently toward her daughter. Stopping mere inches from Willow, Jennifer placed the bowl on the floor between their feet. Taking the younger witch’s right hand, turning it palm up, she sliced effortlessly through the skin with the double-edged blade. Squeezing firmly to increase the blood flow from the wound, the older woman held Willow’s hand over the wooden receptacle. The athame next marked Jennifer’s palm with a quickly widening line of red. She, too, held her palm over the bowl, mixing her blood with Willow’s.

Several minutes passed while Jennifer chanted and the bowl slowly filled with their offering. Finally, the older woman closed Willow’s hand into a fist. She turned and went back to the altar. When she returned, she held a small leather pouch. Loosening the tie on the pouch, the older redhead, bent and picked up the bowl. She poured the contents of the bag into the bowl. Light rose from the mixture, first white, then rapidly cycling through red, blue, and green. Jennifer raised the bowl over her head and chanted with slowly increasing volume. She was shouting as she finished the incantation. A magical wind swirled around them despite there sealed, subterranean location. Squinting against the whipping air and the brightening light from the bowl, Willow realized that the light wasn’t just emanating from the offering. A silver mist rose from the stone floor and wrapped around her lower legs. Every time Jennifer increased the volume of her chant, the mist rose higher. When Jennifer finished with a shouted, ‘So mote it be,” the mist covered the younger girl’s head. The mist was bitterly cold, invading her body. Shivering, unable to see or hear, Willow screamed soundlessly as a spear of power stabbed her mind.


	10. Chapter 10

Eventually, the pain faded. It was replaced by a cold, crawling sensation, as if millions of ice ants scuttled through her brain. Willow dropped to the floor, holding her head. Power flared, trying to build, but the young witch was too unsettled for even the wild magic to gain purchase. After an eternity, everything stopped. The change was so unexpected Willow wasn’t sure how much time had passed before she noticed it. The teen huddled on the cold stone floor, freezing from the inside out. She didn’t even try to stand. Her limbs and mind were numb.

“Willow?” Jennifer’s tired voice asked. Warmth burst in one area as the older woman gently touched her daughter’s ashen cheek. Receiving no response, she carefully released the magical barrier sealing them into the Circle. “Kirstan!” It wasn’t much of a shout, but the witch knew the ex-Slayer would be able to hear. Kneeling next to the incapacitated girl, Jennifer pulled her into her arms, trying to warm the frozen skin.

Seconds later, an armed Kirstan halted outside the Circle. “Jenny?”

“It’s me, baby.” She met worried green eyes and smiled slightly. “I promise. It really is me. When we met, I thought you were the most arrogant, self-centered, pain in the ass on the planet. And I told you how I felt, right in the middle of the Council’s training center.”

Relaxing her guard a little, the brunette stepped across the inset glass. “Is she going to be OK?”

“Yeah. The spell is invasive, to say the least. I found some magical footprints in her mind.” She lifted the girl in her arms toward her wife. “Can you take her? We need to get her warmed up, quickly.”

Without hesitation, the other woman gently picked up the tiny redhead. “Where do you want me to put her?” she asked, already striding toward the staircase.

Jennifer followed more slowly, drained from the casting. “It’s a magical cold. Blankets and other ‘normal’ things won’t help. I’m going to crash soon. Get Drew to set up a minor warding and use a warming spell.”

“Is it safe to bring the others into this?” Kirstan asked, turning briefly to look at the older witch.

“We don’t have a choice, sweetie. This is going to take all of us, just to help her survive.”

***

Willow woke slowly. Opening her eyes, she was surprised to find one of her sisters in full lotus on the floor next to the bed. The sleepy contentment fled as memory returned. Aware of her surroundings now, the witch could see the circle cast around her and the girl on the floor. A golden sheet of power blanketed her body, and the former Scooby sensed the energy helping to regulate her body temperature. It wasn’t a complex spell, but she didn’t want to startle the caster. Gently clearing her throat, the redhead said quietly, “Good morning.”

“Good morning, Willow.” Drew smiled. “Feeling better?”

“A little, I think.” The witch stretched under her energy blanket. “Much better. No more headache, and, now that Kirstan isn’t lugging me around like a sack of potatoes, my stomach has settled.”

The younger redhead laughed. “She did that to you already? Wow. That must be a record, even for this family.”

“I take it, then, I’m not the only stubborn pain in the ass in the building?” It felt nice to joke with her sister. Despite the warm welcome by the Hirsch family, there hadn’t been a lot of time to do the ‘getting to know’ you thing.

“Hardly.” Willow chuckled at the dry tone. “Secretly, I think Mom gets a kick out of showing us she’s still got what it takes.”

The older girl tried to sit up, but found the magical sheet covering her kept her basically pinned to the bed. “Hey, Drew? I thought the spell was just to keep me warm, but am I not supposed to move?”

“What?” the younger girl asked in confusion. Then realizing her sister’s plight, she smirked. “Oh, no. Sorry.” Mumbling a spell, Drew released the spell. “So, I saw you hitting on Alex the other night. She likes to play the field. Want me to teach you how to do that? I mean, it might come in handy.”

Blushing furiously, Willow grasped the pillow behind her head and swung at the giggling girl on the floor. “Evil witch!” she gasped, pulling back for another blow.

Unfortunately for the witch in the bed, she’d forgotten that Drew had both Slayer and magical potential. While not in full possession of the primal forces of the Slayer line, the younger girl moved like lightening. Before she knew it, Willow folded under the girl’s retaliation. Shrieks of laughter and the dull thud of pillows contacting bodies filled the air.

Finally, Willow collapsed back on the bed. “Enough. I yield. I name thee Pillow Fight Champion of…” she hesitated. “What day is it?” Then, shrugging, “Who cares. You’re the Champ.”

Not even breathing hard, Drew tossed the pillow in her hands back onto the bed. “I never doubted it, sister mine.

“I think arrogance is a Slayer trait,” Willow complained. Resting from the aborted fight, she chanced a look inward at the barrier containing her potential. Yesterday’s festivities had damaged the wall, but it was still mostly holding. In a few places, large holes had appeared, and power poured from the breaches. It was enough to sober the young witch. Returning to the outer world, Willow sat up. “Drew, where are Kirstan and Jennifer?”

Looking startled at the sudden change in mood, the younger girl replied, “Mom’s in the training barn and Mama was taking a nap when I came up. That was a few hours ago, though.”

“OK. I need to shower and find some food.” A brief grin flitted across her lips. “I wasn’t in any shape to eat yesterday. Could you see if,” she hesitated. It still felt wrong to call the two women who were her parents by anything other than their names. “Could you see if Mom and Mama can meet me somewhere? I’m pretty sure talking is of the good.”

***

Tara stared in shock at the smaller blonde. “Willow’s growth is part of a prophecy? Did Giles have any more information?”

“Not really,” the Slayer mumbled. “When she did the resurrection spell, she opened a gate. Something evil snuck in before the gate got closed.” Spying a bench, Buffy dropped onto it. “The book or whatever the prophesy was in is in really bad shape. Giles is going to check with the Council.”

“Hmmm. I wonder…” The witch sat down next to Buffy. “Who’s the witch that can help Willow?”

“I…Fuck, Tara, I don’t know,” the younger girl exclaimed. “My God, what was I thinking. I let Giles ramble on about the book with the prophesy and I never got the name.” She bounded off the bench and started pacing furiously. “Helping Will should be my biggest priority now. It’s my fault all this happened.”

Watching the Slayer moving back and forth in front of her, Tara made a decision. The situation was bad, to be sure, but something more was going on. The witch had seen the diminutive blonde face a Hell God with less histrionics. Unfocusing her eyes and drawing in a ribbon of power, she looked at Buffy’s aura. The witch nearly lost the view in surprise. _Oh, Buffy_ , the older girl lamented, _how long have you loved her_? A lot of things made sense, now. The Slayer’s hesitation to, as she said, interrupt when Tara and Willow had been watching TV or a movie; the way she’s brightened whenever Willow was around. _I can’t believe I never made the connection before_.

Pushing the knowledge aside for later examination, Tara tried to find a way to calm the other girl. “Buffy? It’s an easy fix. I can just call Mr. Giles tonight or in the morning. In fact, since I’m not going to class, I could do it right now and then contact the witch.”

The Slayer stopped abruptly. “Yeah. OK. I was going to do a little research, Slayer-style.” Seeing Tara’s confusion, she elaborated. “I’m going to Willie’s and beat some information out of him.”

“I’m not usually big with the violence, Buffy, but maybe it will give us some idea what to expect.” She smiled slightly. “Since I’ve got a bit more to work on, how about I head over to your place? I’ll call Mr. Giles and then do some magical research of my own.”

“That sounds perfect.” Buffy rubbed her eyes tiredly. “I’m sorry – about earlier. I can’t seem to pull it together.”

Quickly standing and pulling the smaller girl into a hug, Tara murmured, “Sweetie, it’s OK. We’re going to get through this.” The witch had a new thought. “Buffy, do you think those friends of yours in L.A. might have more information about what’s going on?”

Leaning into the embrace, the Slayer absorbed the question like a blow. _Fuck, I really need to wake up. First I forget to ask Giles for the name and then I don’t remember I need Tara to go help Angel._ The shorter blonde stepped away, out of Tara’s arms. “Maybe. That’s something else I forgot.”

Seeing the blonde witch start to speak, she hurriedly went on. “I called Angel earlier. They’re kinda having their own big crisis right now.” Blushing a little and looking at the ground, Buffy said, “I was hoping you could go to L.A. today and do a little spell for them.”

The Slayer’s body language warned the “little spell” probably wasn’t so little. “Sweetie, what exactly do they need me to do?”

“Restore Angel’s soul,” came the mumbled response.

“Buffy!” The Slayer’s head shot up at the tone. “That’s the ‘little spell?’”

Meeting the exasperated blue eyes, the eldest Summers said, “Yeah. Willow used the Romanii Curse the last time. There’s a box at home with all the stuff you’ll need.”

“Oh, for Goddess sake!” Tara moved away, back to the nervous Slayer.

“Tara, I know it’s a lot to ask, but maybe they have another book or something that can help us.” She paused, then sighed. She was so tired. Maybe there was nothing they could do to stop this evil coming to town. If Willow hadn’t been right in the middle of the intrigue, Buffy might have just shrugged and given in. But she’d do anything to get Willow the help she needed. In a firmer voice, she said, “After you get rid of Angelus, I need you to bring Faith back from L.A. I want some backup for this fight.”


	11. Chapter 11

“Faith?” Tara said, turning back to Buffy. “Isn’t she in prison?”

“Not anymore.” The Slayer shrugged. “Apparently she broke out to help the A.I. gang with the Angel situation.”

The witch walked back to the bench and resumed her seat. “Sweetie, aren’t you over-reacting? We don’t even know what’s coming. I mean, Willow’s problem is big, but Giles has some help lined up. Shouldn’t we wait until we know what we might be facing before we panic?”

Buffy stared blankly over Tara’s head. Finally, she said, “Normally, I’d say yes. But the thing with Glory really had me thinking. I’ve been so arrogant, Tara.” The blonde witch looked shocked. “I mean, it never occurred to me to ask for help. Hello! She was a Hell God, and we took her on with no real plan in mind. What if we’d had another Slayer? What if Angel and his crew had provided backup? Maybe together we could have found a way to seal the Portal without me diving in.”

The younger girl smiled sadly. “I’d do this alone if it only affected me. But Willow’s at the very eye of the storm. I’m not going to take any chances this time.”

Tara acknowledged the wisdom of the Slayer’s argument. Why shouldn’t they go into this battle with every available resource at their disposal? “Alright. I’ll do it.”

The standing blonde grinned in relief.

“But, Buffy, you’re still making assumptions. Angel may not have any more information than we do. And, sweetie, Faith knows her welcome here won’t be a pleasant one. What if she won’t come?”

“Then you tell her that once we’ve beaten this particular evil, she can take her best shot at me.” The Slayer’s voice was flat, unemotional. “You tell Faith I need her help to save Willow. Once that’s done, I’ll let her take whatever revenge she thinks she needs.”

“I’m not sure this is a good idea,” Tara began. The implacable look in Buffy’s hazel eyes stopped the words. “OK. I’ll go to L.A.” The witch stood. “You go on to Willie’s and I’ll stop by your place to get the magical supplies and call Mr. Giles.”

“Great.” Buffy sounded relieved. “You can take the Jeep. It’s gassed up, and I won’t need it.”

***

The Slayer jogged across the UCS campus feeling like a new person. Tara was on her way to the house to pick up the re-souling kit and to call Giles. It was time for some action. Reaching the edge of the university, Buffy slowed. If she entered Willie’s without a plan, she’d never get the information she needed. She thought back over the last several weeks. Patrol had been routine. Or had it? She’d been so numb lately. Had she missed some unusual demon or vamp activity?

 

Wandering down Main Street, the Slayer tried to take more notice of her surroundings. The weather was colder than usual for Southern California, even allowing for the mid-February timing. Only a few people cluttered the sidewalk. And they all seemed in a hurry, too. Buffy shook off a sudden chill. She had to stay focused. Even with her preoccupation, the Slayer was sure there hadn’t been any changes in demon activity. If there was a Big Bad on the way, the lack of change was worrisome all on its own.

In the Slayer’s experience, great evil either meant a drastic increase in low level demons and run of the mill vampires or a complete lack of both. Some would-be world dominators needed henchmen to help with their scheme. Others were so powerful regular creatures of the night fled in terror. Lost in thought, the blonde girl continued her trek to the demon bar.

Entering the dimly lit barroom quietly, the Slayer extended her senses and gave her eyes a moment to adjust to the dim lighting. Not surprisingly, the room was empty. Buffy walked over and peered over the long gleaming expanse of the bar. Nothing. No sign of customers or the oily bartender. Deciding to wait a minute before exploring on her own, Buffy dropped onto a barstool and absently grabbed a handful of peanuts from a bowl.

A door slammed in the back of the building and the Slayer swallowed her breakfast and stood. Seconds later, the namesake of the bar wandered in from the storeroom.

“Hey, Willie. Been a while,” Buffy greeted him.

Jerking at the unexpected voice, the little man dropped the case of liquor in his arms. The Slayer was sure she’d never heard a sweeter sound as the dozen bottles shattered on the floor and the bar owner cursed.

“Sorry about that,” she said insincerely.

“Slayer, I should have known.” Willie glared at the grinning blonde.

Leaning her upper body against the wood of the bar, Buffy commented, “Why, Willie, it almost sounds as if you don’t like me. I’m all hurt and everything.” Although she was enjoying herself more than she had in a long time, the Slayer knew it was time to get down to business.

“So, Willie, got any tidbits of information for me?” she cooed. “I mean, if there was something big coming to town, you’d tell me, right?”

“Sure, sure,” Willie agreed. “I always take care of the local talent.”

“Good,” the Slayer purred. She watched the bartender respond to the seductive tone and smirked. “Because, if I find you’re holding out on me, I’ll have to send my sister in here to straighten you out.”

Buffy barely managed to contain her laughter at the confused look Willie wore. “Your sister? The small fry that hangs out at the Pump?”

“Oh, no. Dawn’s not coming anywhere near this place, Willie. My _other_ sister, Faith. You remember her, don’t you? She likes leather, dirty dancing, and violence.” She waited for the bartender to make the connection.

“Faith…Faith!” His eyes widened. “Really, Slayer, I ain’t heard nothing.”

“I believe you, Willie.” Buffy grabbed a handful of nuts for the road. “Make sure to let me know if things change,” she tossed over her shoulder, heading for the door.

Leaving the bar, the Slayer decided to return home. Tara should have been able to reach Giles by now, and Buffy really wanted to know more about the witch who would be helping Willow. She didn’t quite jog, but she didn’t dawdle either.

Thirty minutes later, the oldest Summers trotted up the front walk, noticing the empty driveway. So, Tara was already L.A. bound. Opening the door and heading immediately for the kitchen, Buffy hoped the witch’s quick departure wasn’t a bad sign. Tara had taped a note to the refrigerator, the Slayer saw. Ripping off the message, the blonde scanned the neat handwriting. The information resulted in a frown. Stuffing the paper in her pocket, the blonde raced up the stairs and into her room. Digging through the mess in the nightstand, she finally located a crumpled piece of notebook paper.

It was the name and address of Willow’s family outside Sunnydale. Holding it in one hand, Buffy drew Tara’s note from her pocket. The names were the same. The Devonshire Coven recommended Jennifer Hirsch as a magical trainer for the struggling red head.

***

_Maybe breakfast wasn’t such a good idea_ , Willow thought. Her stomach rolled alarmingly as she watched the two older women enter the small den. Jennifer looked exhausted. She leaned into Kirstan, who wrapped a supporting arm around the shorter woman. Witch and ex-Slayer settled together on the loveseat opposite Willow.

“I need to know what you found,” the younger girl said. It came out harsher than intended, but Willow was too tense to make an apology.

Jennifer looked at her without speaking.

The hacker-turned-witch resisted the urge to squirm. She remembered that look from when Mrs. Summers was still alive. Pure Mom-ness poured from those green eyes. Willow, however, had helped defeat a Hell God. Calling on reserves of stubbornness, she met the stare and waited for an answer.

“Girls,” Kirstan broke in dryly, “this isn’t the time to see who’ll blink first.”

“Sorry, love.” Jennifer leaned her head against her wife’s shoulder. “OK, little girl, let’s talk about exactly what happened during that resurrection spell.”

Willow tensed in the overstuffed chair. This was it. “You found something?”

Jennifer nodded. “There were footprints deep in your mind. Whatever was there is gone now. We aren’t dealing with possession. The trail led to your power reserve before disappearing.”

Willow sucked in a deep breath. “OK. So, this _thing_ tried to drain my power?”

“No, I don’t think so.” The older witch looked thoughtful. “I believe, though I can’t prove anything, the entity intended to release your potential. There were no signs that power was pulled through the gap in the barrier. Instead, it looked as if power had been forced through the wall and _into_ the stored power.”

The explanation didn’t make sense. Willow tried to get her thoughts together, but Kirstan asked first, “Baby, what does that mean? Wouldn’t magic placed into the reservoir just get stored with the rest?”

“No.” Jennifer sounded certain. “Pour in enough power, and the levels would rise.”

Willow finally got the point. “Like filling a glass too full. Once you’ve reached the top of the wall, the power would pour out.” She paused for a second. “But that doesn’t explain the way the wall collapsed. That rubble was too old for Rack. In order for the wall to crumble, whatever entered my mind had to keep pouring in power into the dam.” She met Jennifer’s eyes. “That’s a whole lot of power for an ephemeral being.”

Her mother agreed. “It is. As soon as we got you settled, I hit the books. I couldn’t find anything.”

“I even tried the Council. They’re going to keep looking, but the researcher I talked to said the situation didn’t sound like anything they’d recorded before.” Kirstan looked at the head nestled on her shoulder. “Jenny and I have feelers out in the Slayer and Wiccan communities, trying to find information. But,” she said quietly, “we couldn’t give anyone too much information.”

The words didn’t make sense at first. Willow blamed it on the last few harrowing days. Slowly, Kirstan’s meaning became clear. “You’re afraid that if anyone finds out what happened with me and how powerful I’ve gotten, they’ll try to kill me.”

Her mothers looked pained at the description.

“So, what’s the next step? The barrier held after the mind probe, but there are huge leaks now,” Willow said.

“We need to find a way to shore up the wall until we unearth a way to either make the barrier permanent or to siphon off some of the power overflow, you have to trust that nothing will slip through the cracks,” Jennifer replied.

The older witch might have continued, but a sharp knock sounded on the door. “Mom?” Drew called from outside. “There’s a message on the voice mail you guys really need to hear.”


	12. Chapter 12

Willow laughed and the other women looked at her in surprise. “Oh, come on, don’t you think this is getting just a it much? The return of a long lost daughter and her magical mysteries. Now, a phone call? I’m thinking it’s probably not of the good.”

Kirstan stood first. “Then why laugh?”

The younger girl dragged herself to her feet. “Because not laughing leads to crying.”

“Makes sense,” the ex-Slayer nodded. “Coming, Jenny?”

Groaning, the older witch nodded. “A little help, though?” Kirstan grasped her outstretched hand and pulled her up. “Thanks, lover. Well, then, shall we find out just how bad this is about to get?” She moved past daughter and wife to unlock the door.

Drew stood uncertainly in the hallway. “Sorry to interrupt. It’s just…” she trailed off.

“I’m going out on a limb here. The message had to do with me.” Willow had no doubts about that.

The younger girl’s eyes widened. “Um, it might have been.” She shrugged. “It was a Watcher named Rupert Giles. He didn’t say much, though. Just said Mama had been recommended by a friend of his.”

“Girls, it would be helpful to actually listen to the message,” Kirstan commented. She glared at her daughters. “Stop blocking the hallway so your mother and I can find out what’s going on.”

The two redheads obligingly walked down the hall to the kitchen. Hopping onto a stool, Willow commented, “Giles is Buffy’s Watcher.” Reality intruded. “Damn. If Giles is calling for Jennifer, something must be really wrong. Tara’s a strong witch.”

“Before we all go into panic mode, why don’t we listen to the message?” Kirstan asked dryly.

“Right. Good idea.” Willow blushed.

Jennifer chuckled and pressed the play button on the answering machine. Giles’ warm voice poured into the room.

“Mrs. Hirsch, my name is Rupert Giles. I have a bit of a situation, and you were recommended as a possible source of help. A young witch in the area may be in danger.” There was a long pause, and then the speaker cleared his throat. “These bloody machines…I apologize if this doesn’t make much sense. Could you perhaps call me directly? My number is 00-01884-960008.”

All four women looked at each other. “OK. If he’s calling about me, why doesn’t he know I’m already here and that you’re my mother?” the ex-Scooby wanted to know. “Dawnie knows all about you. I’m sure she’s forgiven Buffy enough to tell her the phone number. I just don’t understand.”

“Could he mean your ex?” Drew asked.

The thought of Tara needed any kind of help made Willow sick. “Maybe. There could be a new Big Bad in town.” She frowned. “I need to call Buffy and find out what’s going on.” She moved toward the phone.

A firm hand grasped her shoulder from behind. “No, sweetie. You can’t”

Spinning in Kirstan’s hold, the young witch demanded, “Why the hell not?”

The ex-Slayer smiled sadly. “Because Jenny thinks we need to sequester you until you’ve got better control over the magic.”

“You have to find your center, Willow.” Jennifer joined the conversation. “Right now, the magic doesn’t have a secure place to ground. It’s fluctuating with your emotion.”

Willow shook her head in denial. “I’ve got a temporary barrier in place. I just need to find a way to fuse it, and I’ll be OK.” She looked pleading at both of her parents. “I can’t let anything happen them. They were my family. They _are_ my family.”

“Look, I’ll call Mr. Giles back and get more information. Don’t panic just yet.” Jennifer wrapped her arms around the distraught girl.

Struggling to control her emotions and push back another surge of power, Willow agreed. “OK. No panicking yet. But I reserve the right to freak out if there’s something really wrong.” Jennifer’s laughter vibrated through her. “Could we call Giles now?”

“It’s only late evening there,” Kirstan said. “Jenny?”

“Yeah. I think we’ll all feel better once we’ve got more information.” She pulled back from Willow.  “Drew, hand me the phone.”

“Sure.” The youngest group member grabbed the handset and passed it to Jennifer.

The oldest witch dialed the long number and waited. After several minutes, she frowned and disconnected the call. “That was weird. The international operator said the number was no longer in service.”

***

For the first time since coming back from the dead, the Slayer felt a surge of hope. Not only was there a witch strong enough to help train Willow, but the woman was also the redhead’s mother. Sinking onto the bed, Buffy stared sightlessly at the ceiling. She missed her friend; missed talking with her about the Slaying and Dawnie. Maybe it was time to tell the other girl just how sorry she was for everything. Discarding Giles’ entreaty to wait a while, the blonde mulled over her options. She could call the number on the two notes. Or she could borrow Xander’s car and drive out to see Willow in person.

The Slayer knew she had to apologize in person. Taking a deep breath and forcing herself to think things through a little, Buffy planned for her trip. Getting up, she grabbed a duffel bag from the closet and packed some clothes and weapons.  She moved downstairs to the kitchen. Picking up the phone, she dialed Xander’s number while searching for paper and pencil.

“Hello?” Xander asked.

“Hey, Xan. I let Tara borrow the Jeep earlier, but it looks like I need to take a road trip myself. Is there any chance you could loan me your car until tomorrow?”

A long pause made the blonde nervous. “Umm, I guess so, Buffy.”

“If it’s a problem, I understand.” She didn’t really understand. She _needed_ to make this trip, but there was no way she could explain everything to the young man on the phone.

“No, no, Buff. It’s just – you know, you and driving don’t always mix very well.”

In another time and place, the Slayer might have joked about her driving abilities. Today, fatigue and emotional upheaval kept her from playing along. “Yeah. Look, Xan, I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t important. I promise I’ll bring the car back in one piece.” The words sounded flat, cold.

Responding to the brusque tone, her friend responded, “You OK? Cause you sound a little scary.”

He deserved at least part of the saga. “There’s something big headed this way. Giles is looking for information, and then he’s flying back here. I’ve got the name and address of a witch an hour or so out of town who might be able to give us a hand. I thought I’d go and talk to her in person.” She tried to lighten the mood. “Explaining about the weirdness here never goes well over the phone.”

“You do have a point. So, Big Bad…Let me guess, there’s an apocalypse and a prophecy and we’re all gonna die.”

“Yep. Same as always, Xander.” Buffy finally found the pencil and paper she needed in a drawer. Scribbling a brief note for her sister, she waited for her friend’s words.

“OK, Buffy. The car is yours.” She could hear the worry in his voice. “No way is the X-car more important than preventing the end of the world. Stop by whenever and I’ll give you the keys.”

“Thanks, Xander.” Buffy marveled at the way the Scoobies continued to support her. “I just need to leave a note for Dawn and I’ll be over.” She mumbled a good bye and hung up.

Hunting for her purse and keys took longer than it should have. Finally locating the items, the Slayer taped Dawn’s note to the stovetop and dropped twenty dollars next to it before grabbing her things and heading to Xander’s

***

Two hours later, the blonde double checked the address before pulling into a gravel drive bounded by imposing brick columns. She braked just past the entrance to wipe sweaty palms on her jeans. Now that she was here, Buffy was afraid Willow wouldn’t be happy to see her. Still, it was too late to turn back. Whatever the young witch felt, the Slayer had a new Evil to defeat. Driving slowly up the drive, the blonde gathered her composure.

It took almost ten minutes before Buffy spotted the house. The sprawling two-story building embraced a central courtyard. To the right, Buffy glimpsed other structures. The place was huge. She pulled into the courtyard and parked the car. As she climbed out, a redheaded figure emerged from the house. Shading her eyes against the glare, the Slayer grinned.

“Will!” she shouted and waved at the girl.

A small hand waved back.

Buffy bounced down the narrow gravel pathway that led to the main portion of the house. “Hey, I was worried about you! Looks like you’re doing OK, though.” Not slowing in the slightest, the Slayer took the porch stairs in a single leap and grabbed her oldest and dearest in a bear hug. “Missed you so much,” she choked out.

The stiffness in the body she held indicated something was wrong. “Will? Please don’t be mad. I’m so sorry about everything. Tara and I, we figured out what really happened.” She leaned back, looking at the freckled face above her. “Fuck! Who the hell are you?”

“Dorian,” the girl replied. She stepped away from the stunned Slayer. “Willow’s my sister.”

“Oh,” was all the blonde managed.

A familiar, quirky grin greeted her response. “Willow’s out in the training barn with Drew. Why don’t I take you on back?”

***

Willow sat with Drew in the training barn, shielding stretched in blue and green arcs between them. Where the powerful barriers brushed together, sparks blazed and a dissonant buzzing filled the air.

“Relax, big sister,” the younger Hirsch said quietly. “This isn’t a contest. I know you’re way stronger than me. Pull back a little and feel the energy. You aren’t trying to overpower my shield. You want to match it.”

Working hard to relax into a trance-state, Willow unfocused her eyes and peered at the green energy forming a half circle around Drew. She looked too hard. She sensed more than just the shield. Energy patterns flared in her mind and she automatically named the various patterns. Jennifer was in the kitchen, trying to reach Giles. Flowing farther from the barn, the redhead watched for a minute as Kirstan and Morgan worked with several horses.

“Hey. Where did you go? Mama’s going to ask how this went. I’m not the one who’s explaining why this simple little exercise was a bust,” Drew pointed out.

Internally acknowledging the rebuke, the older girl began to reel in her inner sight. However, as she moved past the house, Willow sensed a very familiar energy pattern. “Buffy!” she said aloud. Narrowing her focus, she basked in the Slayer’s presence. _Damn, I wish I was already there_ , the witch thought. It would take a while to safely ground the shield energy.

The magic inside responded to her desire. The redhead literally felt her essence float from her body, forming an astral figure that raced out of the barn to the Slayer. Mere seconds passed. Astral Willow watched in amusement as the blonde ran up to Dorian and grabbed her in an exuberant embrace. She moved closer and heard her old friend talking.

_“Will? Please don’t be mad. I’m so sorry about everything. Tara and I, we figured out what really happened.”_

The words brought back images of the last days in Sunnydale: the arguments and accusations; the stony silences and looks of disapproval. Those memories hurt – and the hurt bled into anger. Willow tried to stop the dark and vengeful emotion, but it built too quickly. Power quickened through her channels and the witch watched in disbelief as large pieces of debris exploded from the makeshift barrier around her reservoir.

Silently screaming Buffy’s name, she fought the wave of magic leaping toward her friend.


	13. Chapter 13

Willow felt the power explode from her. But, instead of a wave of wild energy, the magic formed a narrow band that traveled across the courtyard. The energy beam stayed low, hugging the ground. Even as she tried to pull back on the magic, the redhead knew it was a lost cause. Most of the temporary barrier had disintegrated, leaving nothing to rebuild the wall.

The redhead panicked when even more mystical energy flowed out of the reservoir. She didn’t know how to stop this. Wind began to blow around her, gently at first. It quickly built to near gale force. Trees bent under its power. Gravel jumped out of the pathways, breaking windows in the house and pelting the blonde. Gathering her will, the witch decided to divert the power rather than halt it. Drawing on some of the energy still swirling in her reservoir, Willow shaped a shield like the one she’d used with Drew. However, this protection wasn’t for her. Stretching to her limits, the redhead placed the barrier around her friend.

Dimly, she could see Buffy straighten from her hunched over position. The gravel bounced harmlessly off the glowing blue wall. Now, she just needed to do something about the cord of power still stretched along the pathways. Before she could come up with a good solution, though, the trail of energy erupted into flames. Unlike fire built with wood and matches, this conflagration burned far hotter. Waist-high flames of pure energy and rage burned in the courtyard. Concentrating, Willow poured more energy into the shield. Unfortunately, the barrier kept the fire from reaching the Slayer, but did nothing for the heat. Already, the blonde was sweating and her skin looked sunburned.

Suddenly, the redhead had an idea. Drawing more magic from the blue pool inside, she poured it onto the flames reaching for her friend. The fire responded eagerly to the surge in power. Leaping higher, the flames glowed. Blue slowly burned into pure white. The smell of smoldering rock choked the witch. She added more power. The bank of stored energy was emptying. If this didn’t work soon, there would be nothing left inside. The air rippled from the heat, and Willow closed her eyes against the glare. It was now or never. She halted the energy feed she’d established with the power cord. Reaching instead for the wind still billowing in the courtyard, she sucked the power from the air. Bit by bit, the rush of air died down. The redhead aided its demise by looping the power back into the fire. Even after the wind had calmed completely, she kept siphoning off energy from the air. She broke the link with the power cord and fed the energy back into her reservoir. Deprived of its fuel, the magical fire dropped in intensity. Long minutes passed before only occasionally flickering embers remained.

Willow released the shield protecting Buffy and closed off the conduit refilling her energy pool. With an inaudible sigh, her astral form fled back to its human host.

Back inside her body, she slumped forward. The practice shield had long disappeared. Drew was nowhere in sight. The witch had no idea how much time had passed. She needed to get to Buffy, make sure she was OK, but she couldn’t muster the strength to stand. Whimpering, she allowed herself to slide to the ground before dropping into darkness.

***

Buffy heard someone scream her name. She whipped toward the sound but didn’t see anything. Her Slayer senses tingled with an unfamiliar rhythm. “Dorian, go,” she said forcefully.

“What?” the well muscled redhead asked.

“Something’s wrong. I can feel it.” The blonde let her enhanced senses reach out, seeking the source of her unease. Without warning, the wind began to blow until it roared around the two girls. “Damn it, Dorian! Get out of here! Find Jennifer!”

Willow’s sister sprinted away, and Buffy relaxed slightly. The wind continued to increase in speed until bits of gravel and other debris jumped off the ground. The particles stung the Slayers face and arms. Instinctively, she doubled over, trying to cover her eyes. The storm raged unabated for several minutes. Even huddled with arms crossed over her face, the blonde had cuts liberally sprinkled on her exposed flesh. Suddenly, the debris stopped flying. Buffy looked up, and then slowly stood upright. The wind continued to hurl pellets, but something blocked access to the Slayer. The pieces slammed against the blue barrier before dropping to the ground.

_What the hell is going on here?_ the Slayer thought. She waited, tensed, for the next strike. It wasn’t long in coming. The air around her seemed to thicken and blue flames shot from the ground. Whatever it was keeping the rocks from hitting her also kept the flames at bay, but the heat scorched her. Breathing shallowly to avoid inhaling the blistering air, Buffy prayed the flames would die down before she burned to death.

Rather than dying, though, the flames leapt higher. They towered over the diminutive blonde, glowing white. Finally, just when the Slayer was sure she would die for a third time, the flames dropped to the ground. Buffy shivered in the sudden chill. The barrier disappeared. Hesitantly, she moved from her position. The courtyard was a disaster. Shrubs and plants had been ripped from the ground and lay littered around the space. The gravel now resembled solid pavement. Intense heat from the magical fire had fused the individual pieces into a solid mass.

No longer fearing for her own safety, Buffy’s thoughts turned toward her friend. What if the magical strike had been meant for Willow? Using every bit of her Slayer speed, the blonde raced off in the direction Dorian had taken. She rounded the side of the house and checked her stride. A vast expanse of field stretched in front of here. Cursing, she stilled her ragged breathing and worked to restore a steady heartbeat. Finally, her mind and body calmed. She let her senses flow out. _There,_ Buffy turned to the left. _Willow…and two – no, three other people._

She took off again, using more stealth and less speed. A small barn stood at the back of the house. Creeping up to the partially opened door, the Slayer listened intently.

“Mama, is she OK?” a voice asked.

There was a brief silence, then a tired sigh. “I think so, Drew. She seems to have drained and then refilled her magical stores. Kirstan, can you carry her inside?”

No one answered the query. Thinking she had simply missed the reply, Buffy slowly moved closer to the opening. Before she could look inside, a strong hand grabbed the back of her shirt, pulling her away. “Jenny, get the girls back in the house!” her attacker shouted.

This time, Buffy didn’t wait for a response from inside. Lashing out with her elbow, she caught the woman behind her in the chin. Amazingly, the tall brunette didn’t go down. Furious, the Slayer went after the other woman with everything she had. In a blur of punches and kicks, she moved the fighter backward. In a recess of her mind, Buffy noted she’d rarely faced such a skilled opponent. Even among the undead, few could match her Slayer skills for long. Finally, the blonde landed a solid kick to the brunette’s stomach and the fighter went down hard.

Rather than moving in for the kill, Buffy placed a booted foot on the downed woman’s throat. “I don’t even care what all that was about. Where’s Willow?”

Breathing hard, the brunette said, “I can’t tell you that.”

“Wrong answer.” The Slayer put more pressure on her foot. “You get one more chance. Where’s my friend?”

“Buffy, you can’t see her right now.” The Slayer recoiled slightly. “Look, I’m Kirstan. Willow’s my daughter. Can you let me up, and I’ll explain?”

Not fully trusting her captive, Buffy nonetheless stepped back. “Talk,” she ordered brusquely.

“First, do you know what happened to Willow?” Kirstan asked as she sat up.

“Yeah. Something happened when she did the resurrection spell. She opened a gateway into Heaven and a big Evil came through before it closed.” Buff stopped, struggling to maintain her composure. Tears burned the back of her eyes and her throat ached. “The evil thing did something to her magic and it started to grow. We – _I_ – thought she was addicted to magic.”

The brunette held up a hand. “OK. You’ve got the gist of it.” Slowly, the older woman stood up. “Damn. It’s been a long time since I’ve fought an active Slayer.”

Buffy wasn’t in the mood to discuss the merits of fighting someone of her talents. “Look, you still haven’t told me why I can’t see Willow.”

“Willow’s magic is out of control. It responds to her emotions. A stray thought or desire, and the power tries to fulfill the need,” Kirstan replied. “Jenny thinks it best to keep her away from people until we can get a handle on the power, find a way to restore her barriers.”

All the pieces came together for the Slayer. “The magical attack earlier, it was meant for me.”

“We think so.” The brunette eyed the suddenly pale girl.

It was all too much. Spinning away, Buffy drove her fist through the side of the barn. The red-painted wood splintered under the blow. Violently ripping her damaged hand from the hole, the Slayer dropped to her knees. Silently begging God or the PTB to end the pain, she drove her hands into the barn over and over.

“Buffy, stop!” Kirstan grabbed the distraught blonde by the shoulders. But the young girl ignored her. Finally, the ex-Slayer wrapped both arms around Buffy and yanked her away from the barn. Holding tightly to the girl, Kirstan moved them both inside the barn. Jennifer and the girls were gone. Dropping onto one of the mats, she slowly released Buffy.

“Want to tell me what’s wrong, sweetie?” The ex-Slayer had a feeling the shattered girl in her arms was an important part of her daughter’s life. Nearly all of Willow’s major magical meltdowns occurred because of Buffy.

“It’s all my fault,” came a heartbreaking whisper. “She started doing magic to help me.” Dead hazel eyes lifted. “They should have left me in the grave. Nothing good has happened since they brought me back.”

Responding to the blonde’s obvious pain, Kirstan pulled the girl back into her arms, rocking ever so slightly. “Hey, Willow doesn’t see it that way. She’s talked about you a lot since she got here. She told this great story about some alternate version of herself.”

The Slayer smiled sadly. “Yeah. That day so sucked.”

Confused, the brunette asked, “Why? When Willow told the story, she made it sound really funny – once we got passed the whole Vampire Willow idea.”

Tears ran unchecked down Buffy’s face. “I thought it was the worst thing that could happen. My best friend dead and turned. I was wrong.” She fell silent, and Kirsten waited her out. Finally, the blonde continued, “I wanted…” She stopped. “It doesn’t matter what I wanted. Will’s my best friend and because of me, she’s hyped up on some kind of magic overload. You should just let her kill me.”


	14. Chapter 14

Eyes widening in disbelief, Kirstan stared at Buffy. “You want to run that by me again?”

The Slayer gave a tired laugh and moved out of the brunette’s embrace. “Never mind. I just came to see Will and talk with Jennifer.” Brushing off her pants and straightening her shirt, the young blonde said, “Since you seem to already know the whole sordid story, I’ll head out.”

When Buffy started back to her car, Kirstan grabbed her arm. “Wait. You can’t go yet. Jenny’s getting Willow comfortable, but she shouldn’t be long. I think we all need to talk.”

Too exhausted to argue, the Slayer nodded. “Sure.” She followed the tall woman inside the house. Bypassing the large kitchen, Willow’s mother led Buffy into the same den they’d used that morning.

“Have a seat. I’ll check on Jenny and Willow.” Kirstan waited for her guest to sit down before leaving the room.

The tired Slayer leaned her head against the back of the couch and closed her eyes. _Oh, God. What am I going to do? She hates me so much she tried to kill me_. That thought repeated endlessly in her mind. Trying to drive the refrain away, Buffy climbed to her feet and paced the room. The action pushed weary muscles until they trembled. Unwilling but unable to continue her frantic march across the carpet, the Slayer dropped back onto the furniture.

The silence seeped slowly into her circling thoughts, and Buffy fell into an uneasy doze until a quiet knock brought her back to awareness. “Yeah?” she called out, voice rough with fatigue.

A brunette head peered into the room. “Buffy? Mom and Mama are in the kitchen. They wanted to know if it was OK to talk there?”

Confused by the question and too tired to censor her words, the Slayer griped, “It’s their house. We can meet wherever the hell they want.”

A fiery blush tinted the girl’s cheeks. “Alright. If you’ll follow me, I’ll take you there.”

“Thanks.” Buffy mentally slapped herself for the way she was acting. It was crunch time – again. She needed to get herself back in the game. “Sorry for that last comment. Kinda tired, you know?” She smiled winningly at her escort.

The taller girl simply nodded and waited for the blonde to join her in the hallway. In silence, they trooped back to the kitchen Buffy had glimpsed earlier. Kirstan and another woman sat at a large table. Once again, the Slayer’s mouth outpaced her thoughts. “Wow. If Will looks like that in a few years, I’ll count myself lucky.” Three sets of green eyes stared at her in shock. “Ummm, I said that out loud, didn’t I?” Buffy mumbled. Rubbing hands over her magic-scorched face, the Slayer tried to pull herself together. “Can we just forget that comment and get on with the discussion? If we wait too long, there’s no telling how many times I’ll make an idiot of myself.”

Kirstan came to her aid. Laughter warming her voice, she said, “Don’t worry about it. In fact,” she reached out a hand to stroke her wife’s arm, “I don’t mind the comment. It’s been a while since someone’s reminded me just how fortunate I am.”

The girl next to Buffy made a gagging sound. “That so corny, Mom,” she protested.

“Don’t interrupt your mother, Morgan,” the red haired woman complained. “This was getting interesting.” She smiled before catching Buffy’s eye. “Why don’t you have a seat, Buffy? I’m sure you’re tired, and this probably isn’t going to be a happy discussion for any of us.”

Dropping gracelessly onto a wooden chair, the Slayer agreed, “No, happy is so not what I’m feeling.” She kept her eyes on the table, tracing the whorls of the grain with a finger. “Where should I start?”

“Well, Willow told us some of what happened last year, so why don’t you pick a starting point near there?” Jennifer suggested.

“Right. Last year.” _I can do this. I can. After all, I’ve told this story so many times before, it won’t require much thought_. Buffy’s inner pep talk did little to convince her this would be easy. “If we’re trying to help Wills, then you should probably know the when and the why of the magic. She started dabbling in magic back in high school.” Bracing for the inevitable freak out, the Slayer explained, “My boyfriend was a vampire with a soul. Unfortunately, he didn’t come with a user’s manual and when we slept together, he lost the soul and reverted to Angelus. Willow did something called the Romanii Curse to restore his soul again.”

She stopped, waiting for questions or recriminations. The only sound in the room was the irritating buzz of the clock over the sink. “After that,” she continued when no one commented on the Slayer-vampire connection, “Will was pretty hooked on the magic. She did a lot of things over the years, and a lot of them used Black magic. Giles tried to warn us she didn’t understand the things she was dealing with, but we ignored him. After all, it was way more important to keep me alive or beat the big bad than it was to worry about what Willow was doing to herself.”

Buffy dragged her eyes from the table and looked into Jennifer’s green ones. “I looked the other way too many times. But I swear, if I’d known what Willow was planning with the resurrection thing, I would have torn down Heaven to stop her.”

***

Willow was awake, or so she thought. It was hard to tell. She felt her body, but nothing moved on command. The witch floated in darkness and waited for things to return to normal. Waiting, however, lasted too long. Willow forced the issue. Once again reaching out with her senses, she was stunned to realize the magic felt sluggish and slow. Even though the rush of power the last weeks was frightening, it was familiar. Now, when she needed the energy, nothing happened. Internally frowning, the young redhead refused to accept her mind’s demand for rest and healing. Pushing at the stream of power, Willow grinned in delight as it picked up speed. A little more shoving and the energy roared through her channels.

Now, she just had to figure out why she couldn’t wake up. A scan of her body showed she was physically fine. There had to be another explanation. Willow checked her magical reserves. Nope, no problems. In fact, the energy she’d siphoned from the fire and wind storms filled the pool. _Then what the hell is keeping me in limbo_? she asked herself. The witch loved a good mystery, but this was ridiculous. Tapping into her energy stores, she sent a tendril of power snaking away from her body into the rest of the house. The tiny ribbon of magic let her peer into every room. Everything was empty. _Jennifer must have sent everyone away_. In her strange state, Willow barely registered the sadness that thought engendered.

As she worked her way toward the stairs, Willow noticed four energy signatures. Morgan meditated in the den. Jennifer, Kirstan, and Buffy gathered around the kitchen table. Buffy must be OK, then. The stream of power expanded as the redhead exulted. She hadn’t hurt her best friend with the fireworks display. The witch quickened the pace of her magical eyes. Reaching the kitchen, she took a moment to examine the Slayer. The perusal was sobering. Buffy looked gaunt and haggard. The blonde had lost weight, and her cheekbones poked through the taut skin of her face. Lost in horror and guilt, Willow didn’t at first realize her magic allowed her to hear as well as see.

_“I looked the other way too many time. But I swear, if I’d known what Willow was planning with the resurrection thing, I would have torn down Heaven to stop her.”_

The redhead gasped soundlessly. Despite her intention to get Jennifer’s attention and ask for some help, Willow found her power snake curling behind the Slayer’s chair to listen.

***

Jennifer interrupted. “Was there anyone in your group to teach Willow how to use her magic?”

“For a while…a couple of times.” Buffy tried to smile at the older version of her best friend. “Ms. Calendar, a teacher at the high school, might have been able to. Angelus killed her, though. That happened before Wills did the Romanii Curse. Giles knows magic, but he was big on the warnings and short on the teaching. I don’t know if he could have helped out.”

The Slayer pushed a stray strand of hair behind her ear. “Will’s ex started training her.” Buffy sat silent after that statement.

“But…?” Jennifer prodded.

“But I died, and Willow literally moved Heaven to bring me back.” The explanation hung in the air.

“OK. I’ve heard the story about the spell, and we think we know what happened,” Kirstan said. “Why the power surge whenever you show up?”

“She hates me.” Buffy thought she would come apart as she answered the brunette’s question.

Looking skeptical, Jennifer commented, “That doesn’t really make sense, Buffy. If she hated you, there was more than enough energy in the attack earlier to burn you beyond ashes.”

The Slayer wasn’t willing to acknowledge the wisdom. “I didn’t trust her. Every time something happened that I couldn’t explain or understand, I blamed Will. It had to be magic…By the end, we fought all the time. When she went to Rack, she got in an accident and my sister got hurt. I accused her of being so lost in the magic she didn’t care about Dawnie, didn’t care about anything but herself and the power.”

***

As Buffy’s anguish-laden tale traveled through the power ribbon, Willow felt tears streak her face. Unable to move or wake completely, the witch still grieved for her friend.

 *** 

“You’ve apparently figured out what really happened,” Kirstan said.

Buffy nodded. “Yeah. Tara, Willow’s ex, talked me through it all. I’m not sure I completely understand, but I got enough to know it wasn’t Will’s fault – the magic using and all.”

“Something like that.” The older redhead stood. “I’m going to grab some drinks. Buffy, can I get you anything besides liquid?”

“No.” The refusal was immediate. The Slayer hadn’t been hungry since her return. “Thanks, though.”

Jennifer puttered around the large kitchen while Buffy and Kirstan remained seated. “There was a message from your Watcher earlier. I assume he called about Willow?”

“Yeah. He asked a friend in the Coven over there for the name of a witch who could help Will get control of the magic. None of us knew Jennifer was Willow’s mom,” the blonde Slayer answered. “I recognized the number Will had given Dawnie.” Blushing a bit, Buffy mumbled, “He told me to stay away, but I needed to make sure she was OK.”

The Hirsches laughed at the admission. “She’s going to be fine. I promise,” Jennifer announced firmly. “We just have to find a way to rebuild the dam around her power reservoir. Once that’s back in place, it’s just a matter of honing her control.”

Buffy basked in the assertion her best friend would recover. The happy feeling didn’t last long. Jennifer and Kirstan didn’t know everything. “Um, that’s great, really,” she stammered.

The lackluster reply clued the other women to a problem. “I thought you’d be more enthusiastic at the news,” the older witch commented.

“Oh, I’m thrilled. Inside, I’m doing a happy dance,” Buffy quickly protested. “Unfortunately, there’s more to this already depressing story. Right after Tara figured out about Will’s magic, I called Giles. He was about to call me.

“The whole magical growth wasn’t an accident,” she told the women. “It’s part of a prophecy.”

***

Willow’s surprise momentarily disrupted the link with her magical spy device. She lay trapped in the darkness, thoughts racing. _A prophecy? Great. Those always mean the end of the world is coming_. Calming herself with effort, the young witch reached back out to the narrow ribbon of power connecting her to Buffy and the women downstairs.

***

“Oh, fuck,” the ex-Slayer snarled.

“Kirstan!” Jennifer objected.

“Sorry. But, damn it, Jenny, those things never mean anything good is going to happen.” The brunette was scared, and it showed.

“I wish I could give you more information, but Giles couldn’t find anything specific. All he knew when I talked to him the last time was that Willow opened a Gate to Heaven when she brought me back. Something slipped through the Gate with me. Something big,” Buffy said. She checked her watch and slumped in the chair. Even though she’d left a note for Dawn, the Slayer didn’t feel right leaving her teenaged sister alone right now.

“I should go.” Buffy pushed herself away from the table and tried to get up. The world spun, and she braced both palms flat on the wooden surface in front of her to stay upright.

“Sit down.” Kirstan wrapped strong hands around her shoulders and lowered her back into the chair. “When was the last time you ate or slept, little girl?”

Anger tried to flare over the mode of address, but Buffy was too tired. “I don’t know. Yesterday, I guess” She stiffened in the woman’s grasp. “I’ll be fine in a minute.”

“Hmmm, let me think about that…” the brunette mocked. “I don’t believe you.”

This time, exhaustion fell beneath the simmering anger. “I don’t fucking care what you believe. Right now, the only thing that matters is Will and making sure she’s OK.” Buffy twisted away from Kirstan and surged to her feet. “I drove out here because I needed to see for myself Will was getting better.” The Slayer spit the words at her friend’s mother, beyond rational thought. Emotions seized control and gave her speech a dangerous edge. “The only reason you’re still standing is because I honestly think you want what’s best for her. She’s all I care about. You, Jennifer, saving the world one more time…I couldn’t care less. If anything happens to Willow, my life won’t matter anymore.”

Buffy met Kirstan’s gaze. “I love her, and I’ll do whatever it takes to make this all go away.”


	15. Chapter 15

Buffy’s impassioned speech stunned Willow. _She loves me? I mean, sure, she’s said it before, but…_ The witch halted the internal rambling. _I need some answers_. She called out to her power snake, uncoiling it from behind the Slayer’s chair. Gently, it slithered back a few inches before lightly wrapping around Buffy’s ankle.

The contact allowed Willow to get a vague sense of the blonde’s emotions. Mental eyes snapping wide in disbelief, the redhead basked in the glow of Buffy’s love. However, underneath the warm glow of the Slayer’s love, cold darkness lurked. Her best friend had reached her limits. Rage, grief, and a smothering despair threatened to overwhelm the tiny blonde.   _Oh Goddess_ , Willow thought. The witch needed to get up. She had to talk to the other girl. But, no matter how hard she tried, Willow couldn’t escape her limbo state. Snarling in frustration, she peered into her magical stores.

The blue pool ebbed and flowed against the crumbling barrier that remained after the firestorm. Its level was far higher than it had been that morning. The young witch tried one last time to maneuver back to wakefulness. Nothing happened. _OK. Enough of this. I have to get to Buffy before she gets into a fight with Kirstan or storms off in a snit._

Willow considered an idea she’d had during her struggle to curb the fire raging around her friend. It just might work…

Concentrating, the young witch banished the ribbon of power stretching to the kitchen. She looked inside and examined her power reservoir. The wall reached just high enough to contain the seething blue pool of magic. However, Willow had not filled the storage area to overflowing when she’d recharged earlier. She had stopped at the top of the dam. It wouldn’t hold if she lashed out again. She needed to take the wall higher and ensure there were no leaks. Simple, really, except she also needed to create a way to breach the wall when she needed to access the additional power.

Staring at the cobbled-together barrier, Willow knew she could fuse the materials into a solid mass. But, how could she make the wall higher? Slowly, an image formed in her mind. The redhead gave a moment’s thought to the dangerous path she was taking, and stepped forward.

Tapping the pool of magic and augmenting it with power pulled from the natural sources in the area, Willow constructed a shield for the room. Jennifer would try to stop her. The witch knew that and took steps to make sure her mother couldn’t interfere. She shaped the power into a thin curtain that stretched from ceiling to floor. Locking it into place, the witch drew in more power and fused a thin layer of magic across floor and ceiling. The room was sealed. It was time to begin the real work.

Willow opened herself completely. Power flowed through her channels in a surging blue wave. As it reached her center, the witch fed energy from outside herself into the mix. Magic lit the room. She kept control of the power, not letting it engulf her. Focusing the enormous amount of energy at her dam, Willow poured every bit of magic into heating the cracked and crumbling wall.

***

Kirstan and Jennifer looked at each other. “We’re supposed to be surprised?” the red haired woman asked.

The Slayer hesitated, her anger faltering in the face of their combined calm. “I was kind of expecting it, yeah,” Buffy mumbled, sitting down with a thump.

Jennifer chuckled. “Sweetie, we need to have a long talk with your Watcher. He’s really neglected your training.”

“What do you mean?” The blonde girl was confused by the apparent shift in topic.

“Slayers are paired with witches. That way, you can combine your physical fighting ability with Willow’s magical one.” The older woman cocked her head. “None of this is ringing any bells, is it?”

“No,” Buffy whispered. _We’re supposed to be together? Why didn’t Giles tell me? All this time, we could have been a couple._ This news, on top of the day’s other shocks, was too much. The world started to fade out, and she slid from the chair.

Kirstan saw the girl’s eyes roll back in her head and dove for the blonde. Cradling the emaciated Slayer in strong arms, the brunette asked, “Jenny, can you go into the den and get Morgan? I’m taking this one to the guest house and settle her in.”

“On my way,” Jennifer replied, already heading for the hallway out of the kitchen. She stopped abruptly. “Fuck! Put her down, Kirstan. Willow’s on the loose again.”

“What?” The ex-Slayer gently placed her bundle on the table. “Is she OK?”

The older witch didn’t answer. Eyes closed, she checked the lines of magic in the room upstairs. “I can’t tell. She put up one hell of a shield. There’s no way in.”

“That’s no way in magically. How about brute strength?” Eyes snapping with irritation, the tall brunette stepped toward the stairs.

The smaller woman grabbed her arm. “Even you can’t break a barrier like this.” She broke off, probing again at the magical force field. “It’s amazing. I’ve never seen anything like it.”

“Anything like what?” Buffy asked dazedly from her position on the table.

Shaking her head, Kirstan commented, “Are things always this lively when you’re around?”

“Yeah. I’m like a lightening rod for bad luck, demon attacks, and world ending apocalypses.” The Slayer sat up. “What have I fucked up now?”

“It’s not you, really.” Jennifer tried to reassure the girl. “Our daughter isn’t doing the smart thing and resting right now.”

“Will?” Buffy hopped off the table, grabbing the surface when her legs wobbled. “What’s wrong with Will?”

“Nothing’s wrong. She’s blocked access to her room, though, and the power is building up inside the shield.” Jennifer was preoccupied, and let the truth slip.

Before either of the adults could react, Buffy sprinted for the stairs. “Buffy, wait!” Kirstan went after the younger Slayer. She found the blonde pounding ineffectively at a shimmering blue curtain of energy and screaming her friend’s name.

“Stop it! Buffy…” She grabbed the blonde, pinning her arms. “What do you think you can do? Break it down with your bare hands?”

The Slayer twisted violently in her grasp. “Let me go. I have to help her.”

“You can’t.” She held the diminutive blonde against her chest, feet off the floor. Finally, Buffy stopped fighting her. “I’m going to put you down. Don’t do anything stupid.”

The Slayer didn’t answer, but dipped her chin slightly in agreement.

Kirstan set Buffy back on the ground as Jennifer, Morgan, and Drew thundered up the stairs. “Anything?” Jennifer fired at the two Slayers.

“I don’t suggest beating on it,” Buffy admitted ruefully. She held up her hands, and the Hirsch family saw the bruised fingers. “I think I broke a couple of them doing just that.”

***

As the heat rose around the dam, the magical debris filling the holes in the original wall liquefied. Blue energy melted and dripped in globs around the witch. Her astral form wavered in the intense temperatures. Pushing more power into the magical forge, Willow continued to heat the dam. When the wall glowed white-hot and most of the material had lost its solid form, she called up the wind.

Unlike the hurricane from the afternoon, this breeze wafted through the room, barely noticeable. Like a glass-blower, the witch drew the liquid material around a central core of power and let the wind shape it. Thinning it almost to the breaking point, the witch slowly drew the fragile energy up over the dam’s foundation. The fluid creation flowed into the cracks, sealing them.

Sucking in even more power, Willow began the next stage of construction. She was out of building material now. She would have to create the last of the wall from scratch. The power she drew in for this task overflowed the reservoir. Waves of power spilled over the low wall, inundating the witch.  Gathering the energy in a sphere around her, Willow held and heated the new magic into a thicker material. Straining to lift her unwieldy burden to the top of the barrier, the witch felt her energy stores dipping dangerously low. Unfortunately, she couldn’t turn back now. She’d extended too far. Pulling back meant a magical backlash and no way to refill the reservoir.

Increasing the speed of the wind, the redhead manhandled her creation into place. The heavy liquid began to cool and harden. However, it would need special handling to contain her magic. In one violent surge, Willow yanked the heat from the magical wall and blasted it with subzero temperatures. The material turned to frost-covered stone. It was obviously newer than the original wall, but it was strong. Grinning in triumph, the astral witch reached for more magic and slowly refilled the reservoir.

The damage created by the nameless Evil and Rack had been repaired. Willow could return to learning magic with no worries about firestorms or dangerous magical tantrums. However, Buffy needed her at full strength; a novice witch would be of no use. Holding back fatigue with sheer force of will, the redhead began one final project. Still linked to the energy around her, Willow formed a laser-like beam. Keeping her focus narrow and intense, she drew the blue laser down the new wall, cutting a small door. The beam mutated into bursts of energy. It was done. A small hatch granted access to the reservoir, locked against intrusion with a magical keypad. Only Willow would be able to match resonances with the panel and open the hatch.

***

“Brute force isn’t always the answer,” Jennifer said. “Damned impatient Slayers.” Grumbling, she reached for Buffy’s hand.

“Leave it. I’ll heal. Just find a way to get to Willow.” The young blonde turned back to the glowing shield. “What are our options?”

Jennifer and Drew joined her at the barrier. “I’m not sure we have any.” Jennifer sounded frustrated. “Willow’s got the entire room blanketed in power. If we try to break through, the magic will just rebound on us.”

Everyone stood quietly, minds struggling to discover a way into the room. “Mom?” Morgan began. “What if you don’t try to break in?”

“I’m not sure I understand,” her mother replied.

“Well,” the younger brunette offered, “Willow warded the room against attack, right? I mean, that’s the purpose of a shield. Could someone, I don’t know, merge with the barrier and then just walk through?”

Frowning, Jennifer thought about the question. “It’s theoretically possible, but I wouldn’t even know where to start.” She slammed her hand into the barrier, garnering shocked looks from the others. “We don’t know Willow well enough to try matching resonances.”

“You may not, but I do,” Buffy stated quietly. “Tell me what to do.”

Meeting the determined hazel gaze of her daughter’s best friend, Jennifer nodded. “Touch the shield gently, and clear your mind.”

Reaching out a tentative hand, the Slayer rested her palm against the warm, pulsing energy. She drew in deep breaths and used a meditation technique to drive all the thoughts from her mind. In the mental silence, magic grew. It felt familiar, and Buffy smiled. It felt like Willow. Bright, inquisitive, shy, and loving.

Jennifer’s voice rang in a back corner of her mind. “You’ve entered the shield; don’t rush. Continue to feel the magic and move forward. When you get into the room, open your eyes. I’ve established a small link and will be able to help you once I know the situation.”

Reconnecting with her friend and her magic, the blonde remained motionless. More power ran through her body, and this time, the Slayer sensed old resentments, bitterness, and grief. Acknowledging her part in creating these emotions, Buffy opened herself to Willow and hoped the other girl would see her heartfelt apology. The power rippled and turned cold for a brief, frightening second before warming again. It brushed Buffy’s mind with a formless hand, caressing the Slayer and offering forgiveness and love in return.

The Slayer stepped into the room and opened her eyes.

Willow lay on her bed, face lined with concentration. Sweat covered her face and cleaved her clothes to her slim frame. The room was eerily still. Buffy crept closer, alert for any sign the witch on the bed planned to lash out. “Will?”

Her friend didn’t acknowledge her quiet query.

Hesitantly, the Slayer sat down next to the redhead. _Jennifer said the magic was filling the room, but I don’t see anything_. The blonde gently brushed wet red hair from Willow’s forehead. _I don’t like this. Why isn’t she moving?_ Louder than before, Buffy called to the girl on the bed, “Hey, Willow! Come on, Sleeping Beauty, it’s time to wake up.” She shook the arm nearest to her. Nothing.

“Jennifer?” she asked in a shaking voice.

Faintly, a little voice answered, “I’m with you, sweetie. She’s OK, Buffy. But for some reason, I think she’s out of her body. We have to try calling her back.”

“Um, alright.” The Slayer stood up. “What do I need to do?”

“I want you to go back into the trance state and merge with the magic again. Reach out to Willow through the energy,” the older witch responded.

Dropping her head to her chest, Buffy sank back into the embrace of Willow’s power. The blue energy welcomed her back with gentle caresses. _Will?_ the blonde called with her mind. _Hey, besty friend, where are you? I came all the way from Sunnydale to see you._

At first, Buffy thought she’d failed again. But the power around her surged and a silvery mist appeared in front of her. The shapeless energy started to solidify. Willow smiled at the blonde, but the Slayer could see through the shape.

_Wow! Looking a bit pale, Will. What’s wrong with the body on the bed? ‘Cause I could use a hug right about now_. Buffy forced herself to stay calm. _Your moms have been giving me a hard time._

_They’re just protecting me,_ the astral form replied. The ephemeral face split wide with a grin. _I fixed it, Buffy. I fixed the reservoir. My power is back under control_.

The Slayer stepped forward, but remembered she couldn’t hug her friend in this form. _Damn. This sucks, Will. If you fixed the power thingy, why can’t you come back to your body?_

_I don’t know_. Buffy heard a hint of panic in the mental voice.

Standing just in front of the shadow witch, the Slayer tried a different approach. _Damn it, Will. This isn’t the time for games. Something big’s on the way. I sent Tara to LA to get backup. Dawn’s at home alone doing who the hell knows what. I don’t have time to sit around while you play ‘Where’s Willow.’_

The shade faded out and then reformed. _I know, Buffy. I just figure out how to get back._

Throwing her hands in the air, Buffy snapped, _Just do it, Will. Stop analyzing everything and just do it!_

The misty form in front of her nodded once and then disappeared. The Slayer ran to the bed and watched the form closely. Nothing was happening. _Damn it, Willow. Please come back to me._ Grabbing the still hand, Buffy held it to her face. The limb felt cold and lifeless. “Please, Will. I need you so much. Open your eyes, baby. I know you can do it.”

Buffy stood rigid, waiting for the slightest movement. An eternity passed before she noticed the color slowly infusing the freckled face below her. Green eyes blinked sleepily. “Buffy?” A grin lit up the room. “I’m baa-aack.”

“Thank, God.” The Slayer dropped onto the bed and pulled the witch into a fierce hug. When the girl squeaked, she released her grip. “Don’t ever scare me like that again, damn it.” Buffy pressed her lips to Willow’s.


	16. Chapter 16

The redhead’s lips tasted sweet, and Buffy urgently ran her tongue along the flesh. Willow hesitantly granted the impatient Slayer access to her mouth. Plunging heatedly into the witch’s mouth, the blonde stroked her tongue along Willow’s and groaned. She’d waited too long for this.

Panting, she finally moved back just enough to rest her forehead on the other girl’s. Voice shaking, the Slayer said, “Oh, God, Will. I missed you so much.”

Giggling, Willow commented, “You never missed me like that before.”

“I wanted to, does that count?” Buffy dropped her eyes, afraid of her friend’s response. She flinched when a small hand brushed her face.

“Hey, what’s got you so spooked?” Willow brushed her lips over Buffy’s. “Did you think I’d smack you ‘cause you kissed me?” A smile quirked her lips. “I’m bisexual, Buffy. I’ve spent a lot of time looking at you and wondering.”

“So, does that mean you think I’m hot?” Despite the blush staining her cheeks, the Slayer was giddy with relief.

“At the risk of giving you a big head, yeah. You’re hot.” The witch kissed the blonde again, keeping control of the action despite Buffy’s attempt at dominance. Willow pushed her companion back on the bed and straddled her waist. Breaking the kiss, she grinned at the blatant desire in the Slayer’s hazel eyes. “Mmmm. This is a nice way to wake up. Can we do it again?”

“Sure.” Buffy lapsed into silence.

“Hey, beautiful, where did you go? I was hoping for a little more kissage.” Willow watched the Slayer, noting the frown tilting her mouth. Wanting to get Buffy’s mind off her troubles, the witch ran a teasing finger over the blonde’s nipples. They hardened immediately. “Wow! Look at those.” She pulled Buffy’s shirt out of her pants and stroked the warm flesh of her stomach.

The Slayer arched at the contact. “Please, Will. I need you so much.” Smiling, the redhead answered the plea.

Pushing Buffy’s shirt up and uncovering the blonde’s bra, the witch laved the hard peaks through the material. Panting, the Slayer ignored the little voice in her mind and grabbed Willow’s head, pressing it roughly into her chest.

“Buffy, the barrier’s still up and I can see everything. Do you think you can stop necking with my daughter and open the door?” the little voice sounded amused.

“Oh, fuck!” Buffy catapulted off the bed, knocking Willow to the floor. “Your mom’s in my head.”

Staring at the blonde in confusion, Willow scrambled to her feet. “My mom’s in your head?”

“Yeah, she helped me through the shield and she’s kind of sitting in my head watching everything.”

Willow turned beet red. “My mother is in your head watching me…us…Oh, goddess.”

Jennifer snickered inside Buffy’s mind. “Tell her to stop babbling and let us in. The rest of the family is here now, and they aren’t going to leave until they can see for themselves Willow’s alright.”

“Jennifer says the whole family is in the hallway, and they won’t leave until you open the door,” the Slayer relayed.

Face still an alarming shade of red, the young witch shuffled to the shield enclosing the room. Mumbling a few words in Latin and waving a hand at the magical barrier, Willow released the energy safely into the ground. Immediately, the door swung open, revealing a glowering Kirstan and a horde of redheads. They swarmed into the room, surrounding Willow, firing questions at the young witch.

Knowing the family was worried about their newest member, the Slayer drifted away. Her body still hummed with arousal, and she couldn’t keep her eyes off her best friend. For five years, she’d hidden her love for the shy redhead. Now that she’d admitted her feelings, Buffy fought with the need to throw the Hirsches out and finish what they’d started.

“Give them a few minutes. Once they know she’s OK, we can herd them back downstairs.” Kirstan stood next to Buffy, eyes on the group by the door.

Flicking a glance at the tall brunette, the blonde asked, “You really don’t care that we’re together?”

“Hell, no. In fact, when we first met Willow, Jenny and I didn’t understand why you weren’t with her.” She frowned. “I really don’t get why your Watcher wasn’t training both of you.”

Remembering Giles and the debacle of the Cruciamento, Buffy knew he would not have hidden something this important. “I don’t think Giles knew, Kirstan.” She paused, something tickling her memory. “How do you know about all of this? Are you a Watcher?”

The question made Kirstan look directly at the shorter girl. “Buffy, we really need to sit down and talk at some point. There is so much you obviously don’t know. I’m not a Watcher. I was a Slayer, and Jenny is my witch.”

“What?” The blonde spun to face Willow’s parent. “How can you…Slayers don’t get to retire. We die, and we get replaced.”

“Well, the chances of actually making it to retirement are bad, but there are several of us in California and more in other parts of the world.” Kirstan laid a hand on Buffy’s shoulder. “Like I said, we need to talk. But this isn’t the best time.”

“Is there ever a good time? Come on, Kirstan. My life is a never ending round of demons, vamps, and Hell Gods.” The younger Slayer struggled to reign in her anger. In a softer voice, she said, “Why didn’t Giles ever say anything?” She needed to believe her surrogate father had not betrayed her a second time. He was a cornerstone in her freakish life.

Sensing another breakdown in progress, the tall brunette pulled her soon-to-be daughter-in-law into a fierce hug. “Hey, you just told me your Watcher didn’t know. When he calls us back, you can ask him.”

Nodding into the other woman’s shoulder, Buffy agreed. “Yeah, OK. But he’ll have to tell me face to face. He’s supposed to be back in Sunnydale tomorrow afternoon.”

“Good. Invite him out to the ranch. Jenny and I have plenty of room, and we all need to figure out what’s going on.” She squeezed the tiny blonde a final time and then stepped back. “Now, I think Jenny has gotten the rest of the family out of the way. Why don’t you go get Willow and the two of you can set up in the guest house for the night.”

“I can’t stay,” Buffy lamented. At Kirstan’s confused look, she explained, “I left my little sister in Sunnydale. There’s no way she should be on her own all night.” The Slayer shuddered at the thought of what Dawn might do without a chaperone.

“You and Willow need to be together.” She caught Buffy’s shocked and embarrassed look and laughed. “Well, I don’t think you’ll be crocheting, little girl. But beyond the physical, the two of you need to connect emotionally as well. Now that you’ve both acknowledged the bond, you have to strengthen it. The best way to do that is to hide out and just be together.”

“You can’t begin to imagine how much I want that to happen.” Buffy lost focus as images of quality time with Willow danced in her mind. Then she sighed. “But I can’t stay. If Giles were in town, maybe. But, there’s…” her voice trailed off. “I am such an idiot. Can I borrow your phone?”

A little stunned at the rapid change in the blonde’s moods, Kirstan nodded. “Sure. You can use the one in here.” The older Slayer watched, mystified, as Buffy almost ran to the phone and punched in a string of numbers.

***

“Hey, Cordy. It’s Buffy. Did Tara make it there OK?” Buffy asked.

“Yeah. In fact, she and Faith took off for Sunnydale a couple of hours ago.” The ex-Prom Queen sounded tired, but happy. “Thanks for sending her, Buffy. She got Angel’s soul restored, and things are back to normal.”

Smiling in relief, the Slayer replied, “Hey, we’re all on the same side these days. It’s about time we remember that.” She sighed. “I was really hoping to talk with Tara before she left.”

“Are you still working under the Giles’ ban on technology, Buffy?” Cordelia was amused. “Cause even Angel has a cell phone these days.”

“Cell phone?” The blonde groaned. “So I’m blonde, sue me.” Laughter vibrated against her ear. “Faith has a phone?”

“She does. And, since you sent Tara to help us out, I won’t even make you beg for the number.” The former Scooby rattled off a string of numbers. Luckily, Buffy located a pencil and paper in the nightstand drawer. She scribbled it down and smiled.

“Thanks, Cordy. You’re the best.”

“I know. Too bad everyone else doesn’t realize it,” the AI member joked.

Buffy smiled. Queen C sure had changed. “Thanks again, Cordy. Tell everyone ‘Hi.’” The Slayer disconnected and immediately dialed the number scrawled on the paper in front of her.

As she waited for Faith to answer, the Slayer wondered if she could actually do this. The last time she’d talked to her sister Slayer, the blonde had been brutal. However, the stakes were too high to back down. She’d just have to deal with whatever attitude the gruff Bostonian copped.

“Hello?” Road noise muffled the voice, but it was definitely the brunette Slayer on the phone.

Palm damp against the handset, Buffy responded. “Hey, Faith. It’s Buffy. Just wanted to see how you and Tara were doing?”

There was a long pause. When she spoke again, Faith sounded tense. “We’re good, B.”

“Good. Good.” Buffy sucked in a calming breath. “Thanks for coming to help. I know you probably wanted to be anywhere than back in Sunnydale. There’s some weird shit going on…we need to talk. But I’ve got another big favor to ask Tara. Could I talk to her for a minute?”

There was a long pause, and Buffy worried she might have lost the connection. Then a husky voice responded. “Yeah. I’ll give her the phone.” The blonde waited. “Actually, B, I needed to come back. We do need to talk, just the two of us, maybe. Here’s Blondie.”

“Buffy? Is everything OK?” Tara sounded worried.

“Yeah. I’m good. I’m actually with Willow right now.” Her speech picked up speed. “I know you said to wait, but, well…anyway. Willow’s fine. Her magic is back under control. It’s been a rough day, and I was going to crash here. Do you think you and Faith could spend the night at the house with Dawn?”

The blonde witch sighed over the phone. “Somehow, I know there’s a story behind your trip out of town. But, we should be back in Sunnydale soon. I don’t know about Faith, but I’ll be happy to have a girls’ night with Dawnie.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So...When I wrote this chapter, I realized what a terribly tight corner I'd written myself into (with the help of Aeris Jade's original chapter). Bonded Slayers and witches seemed like a great explanation. Does anyone sense I might have missed the way my corner got even smaller? ;)


	17. Chapter 17

Buffy replaced the handset and turned back to Kirstan. “OK. Problem solved. I guess you have a houseguest for the evening.”

Despite a lingering sense of confusion over the blonde’s rollercoaster emotions, the ex-Slayer nodded. “Good. We’ll go grab our witches and head downstairs. So, who’s watching your sister?”

“Willow’s ex and Faith.” The Slayer shook her head. “And let’s just say how unbelievable that statement sounds.”

“Why? The ex not adjusting to her change in status very well?”

That got a real laugh from the blonde. “Hardly. Tara’s the best. No, it’s Faith, and the fact I’m not wigging about her being back in town in general or trusting her to watch Dawn in particular.” She looked up at Kirstan. “Faith’s the other Slayer, and she’s got a bad track record when it comes to me and mine.”

“Two actives? Damn. We’re going to need an entire day for our Big Talk.” The older woman laid a hand on Buffy’s shoulder. “No more shop talk. Jenny’s glaring at both of us. And,” she chuckled, “my daughter looks like she wants to get you alone.”

Buffy blushed, but had to admit (to herself) that Willow did look a bit predatory. Her body responded to the look immediately, nipples hardening and moisture pooling between her legs. “Talking, remember?” she tried to brush the woman’s comment off. “We’re just going to talk and do that reconnecting you mentioned.”

“Uh huh.” Sarcasm dripped from the sound of agreement.

***

An hour later, Buffy watched Willow nervously. Jennifer and Kirstan had left them alone in the guest house, as promised. Dinner sat waiting for them on a small table in the corner as the redhead puttered around arranging silverware.

Finishing her task, Willow turned to the Slayer and smiled. “Hey, you want to eat or are you going to hide over there all night?” When the blonde didn’t answer, the witch’s smile dimmed. “Buffy, what’s wrong?” She walked to stand in front of the shorter girl.

“Nothing’s wrong, not really.” Buffy cleared her throat. “It’s all kind of catching up, I guess. You know, the whole resurrection thing; you becoming the most powerful witch in the world; us being together.”

It was a lot to deal with. “Sweetie, let’s get started with dinner.” Willow examined her friend. “We need to fatten you up. Then we’ll talk about all of that.” She took the Slayer by the hand and pulled her across the room and waited until Buffy sat reluctantly in front of one of the place settings. Moving the second setting closer to the seated Slayer, the witch dished out food from the serving bowls.

“Is that all that’s bothering you?” Willow was sure Buffy had something else on her mind. The blonde kept sneaking glances at her and then looking away. The Slayer didn’t answer. Pushing her food around on her plate, she stared unblinking into space. This was going to take some finesse. The redhead grabbed the other girl’s hand, stilling the fork. “Buffy…” She waited until her friend slowly turned toward her. “Talk to me, please.”

The blonde’s chin dipped slightly in agreement. “OK, Will. I’ll try.” She licked her lips and cleared her throat. “How can we do this? Get together?”

“Is it a problem? That it’s me?” Willow’s throat tightened.

“No! Oh, no, Will. But, I’m a magnet for badness. It would kill me if something happened to you.”

Linking their fingers, the witch thought about her answer. “Buffy, I might have been able to walk away from all of this back in our sophomore year. But it’s been five years now. Don’t you think I know what I’m doing?” She held up a hand to stop Buffy’s protest. “I’m not the shy hacker you rescued from a vamp.” She let power pulse through her channels and met hazel eyes with her own solid blue ones.

Buffy jerked backward. “What the fuck?”

“I am more than able to take care of myself, Buffy.” She harnessed the power and locked it back behind the shield wall. “Next objection, please.”

“Tara.”

Raising her eyebrows, Willow asked, “What about Tara?”

“You love her.”

“Yes, I do. I always will.” The witch watched the Slayer pale. “But, Buffy, Tara and I are over. We need to talk, sure.” She moved closer, straddling the blonde’s legs before sitting in her lap. “I want to explore what’s between us.” A slim finger stroked a prominent cheekbone. “First, though, Sweetie, you need to eat. You haven’t been taking care of yourself. Let me help you with that.”

Willow picked up a fork and lifted some of the cooling meat from Buffy’s plate. Setting the bite against her friend’s lips, she waited. After a brief hesitation, the Slayer pulled the morsel from the tines and chewed slowly. The redhead restrained a groan as she watched her girl’s lips move. As Buffy finished the mouthful, Willow leaned in and pressed an open-mouthed kiss to the Slayer’s throat.

“See, that wasn’t so bad, was it?” She nibbled on the spot she’d just kissed. “Every time you take a bite, you get a reward.” Willow watched a deep flush climb up Buffy’s neck to her face.

“N-no, not bad at all,” Buffy whispered. Clearing her throat, she said a bit louder, “I could go for some more of the steak, I think.” An uncertain grin twitched her lips.

“Good girl.” Willow nuzzled Buffy’s throat a minute longer and then pulled back. She fed her Slayer, interspersing kisses with bits of food. By the time they’d cleared the plate, both girls were breathing heavily.

“I’m not hungry for more food, Will,” the Slayer stated.

Smirking, the witch rose up on her knees, looking down into desire-filled hazel eyes. “Should I see if Mom and Mama left some dessert?”

“I don’t think so. Dessert’s right here.”

***

Faith hesitantly opened the front door. “Dawn?” she called. No one answered, but Faith heard footsteps on the second floor. Taking a deep breath, she forced herself over the threshold. Images of punching Joyce, fighting with Buffy, swarmed through her mind. _Fuck. I just get here and already I’m losing it_.

The brunette Slayer wandered slowly through the house, peering into the living room and kitchen. It was more cluttered than she remembered, but very little else had changed. She paused at the bottom of the stairs. Facing the youngest Summers wasn’t as dangerous as facing her sister, but the Bostonian still thought this was a crappy plan.

“Hey, Faith, did you let Dawn know we were here?” Tara’s voice jerked the frozen teen out of her thoughts.

“Uh, no, not yet.” Faith flashed a grin at the blonde witch. “I think she’s upstairs.”

Raising an eyebrow and smiling crookedly, Tara said, “Couldn’t decide how to tell her you’re back?” The older girl carried some groceries inside. Dropping them on the floor next to the kitchen, she watched the brunette. “You want me to go upstairs?”

 _Hell, yeah_ , Faith thought. Aloud, she mumbled, “No, T, I’ll go.” In a macabre imitation of a condemned prisoner’s walk to her execution, the Slayer climbed the stairs. At the top, she didn’t hesitate, but strode down the hall to the girl’s room. Knocking firmly on the door, Faith bounced in place, filled with nervous energy.

“Hey, Buffy, I…”Dawn’s words trailed off and then mutated into an ear-piercing shriek. She stepped back into her room and tried to slam the door. Sighing, Faith laid her palm flat on the wood and held it steady.

“Think you can stop wailing like that, D?” The Slayer held her hands out, showing she was unarmed. “B asked me to come help her with Red and some new Big Bad.” She grinned, showing off her dimples. “I’m on the right side of the fight, promise.” Holding her breath, she waited for the younger brunette’s response.

Dawn’s eyes narrowed. “I’m supposed to believe that?”

“I was kinda hoping so, yeah.” The Slayer was dripping with sweat. Redemption sucked. She’d never been so freaking nervous when she’d been working for the Mayor. _Hmmm, nice comparison,_ Faith taunted herself. _Nervous or psycho…choices, choices_. “We gonna be good, Little D?”

“Don’t call me that.” The younger brunette glared but the vitriol in her voice had lessened. “I can’t believe Buffy asked you here. She’s way too ‘I’m _the_ Slayer’ to ask for help.” She frowned. “Of course, Will’s all tied up in this and my sister’s kinda crazy protective where she’s concerned.”

Sensing a reprieve as the conversation shifted to business, Faith relaxed a little. “B said she was with Red when she called earlier. You know what’s the what?”

Demons had nothing on the evil glare Dawn leveled at the brunette Slayer. “Like I would know! Nobody tells me anything.”

“Whoa! Power down, Lit-“ The glare intensified and Faith broke off. Changing the topic entirely, she gave her trademark smirk and checked out the youngest Summers. “Been a while since we shared space, D. Nice to see you’re all woman-sized now.”

Dawn blushed, but met the Slayer’s brown eyes. “Perv.”

“Nah. Just appreciating the view.” Smiling, the older brunette stepped back. “T’s downstairs. Think she’s got plans for dinner if you wanna come on down.”

Guilt worked its way across the teen’s expression. “Yeah, dinner.”

Cocking her head to the side, Faith wondered what the younger girl was up to. “You already eat?”

“Not exactly.”

“Not sure that works. See, D, you either ate or you didn’t,” she pressed. Reaching out a hand, the Slayer tapped a pert nose. “B ain’t here, kiddo. I sure as hell ain’t in a position to be telling you how to act. So, spill.”

Smiling for the first time since coming out of her room, Dawn finally answered. “Buffy left some cash for food. I ordered pizza a little while ago.”

“Not seeing the bad there.”

“She left a note with the money – absolutely no pizza.” In step, they moved to the stairs. “Since coming back,” the taller girl grimaced at the euphemism, “she’s been a big food critic.”

Wrapping a companionable arm around Dawn’s slim waist, the Rogue Slayer laughed. “B always was wound a bit tight. She gives you any flack, I’ll just say I was hungry for some cheesy goodness.”

Grinning, Dawn looked at her older companion. “Cool. I’m glad you aren’t evil anymore, ‘cause you were way more fun than my sister.”

Faith blinked back unexpected tears at the comment. She had expected to have to work for acceptance from the girl at her side. This was unbelievable. She opened her mouth to thank Dawn when all the lights went out. “Fuck! B forget to pay the electric bill?”


	18. Chapter 18

The Slayer pulled Dawn closer. “Hang on, Dawnie. Where’s the breaker box?”

“The what?”

“Fuck. OK.” Faith led her young friend downstairs. When they were safely on the ground floor, she let go and stepped away. “Stay put, D. I’m gonna check on Blondie and see if there’re candles or something in the kitchen.” Before she could leave, however, someone started banging on the door. “Welcome back to good ol’ Sunnydale,” Faith bitched to herself. Enough time had passed for her enhanced vision to adjust to the dark. Working her way to the front door, she reached for the knob.

The door flew open before she could grab it. Wind whipped leaves and other debris into the house. “Faith, what’s going on?” Even Dawn’s powerful lungs had trouble overcoming the storm that raged outside.

“I don’t know,” the Slayer shouted back. She managed to get a hand on the door and slowly forced it closed. The silence that followed was broken by another series of loud thumps. “I ain’t answering this time.”

“We need to check on Tara,” Dawn said.

Faith nodded before she remembered the teen couldn’t see her. “Come on, then.” Gripping an arm gently, she steered them toward the kitchen. Suddenly, the lights flickered on. “Man, I hate the Hellmouth.”

Dawn giggled. “It makes things interesting.”

Shaking her head and smiling at the teen’s infectious laughter, the Slayer finally entered the kitchen. “Tara?”

“I’m fine, guys.” The blonde stood in front of the microwave, a strange expression on her face.

Dawn catapulted across the space, wrapping the witch in a bear hug. “Please, please, please don’t ever leave again. My sister is evil. You have to stay and take care of me.”

“Fuck, D, laying it on a bit thick, don’t you think?” Faith smirked at the scene. “And your sister isn’t evil. She’s too uptight for that.”

“Faith!” Both brunettes laughed at the protest. “Did you guys notice anything besides the lights going out?”

“Thumping on the door and a nasty wind.” Faith hopped up on the counter. “Something wrong with the microwave?” The witch was holding the power cord in her right hand.

“You could say that.” She plugged the appliance back in. It roared to life and the lights blinked out. The microwave kept going and Faith heard the TV in the living room come on.

“B so owes us, T. This was supposed to be a big slumber party for three.” Faith jumped off the counter, pulling a knife from the caddy. “I can’t feel anything. Slayer senses say nothing’s on the horizon.”

The witch frowned. “I can’t feel anything either.” She closed her eyes and chanted. Blue light flared, coating the walls and ceiling. “This is bad. I just warded the room. Nothing magical should be able to get through.” As if to taunt her, the small radio next to the sink blared music.

“Dawn, see if you can get in touch with Buffy.” Tara handed Dawn her cell phone. “It’s the first number in memory.” She turned to the Slayer. “Can you check the rest of the house?”

Not at all comfortable with the idea, Faith nevertheless nodded. “Any idea what I’m looking for?”

Tara gave a half-smile. “Something evil?”

“Wow, thanks, T.” The Slayer crept from the room, knife at the ready.

Noticing Dawn closing the phone, Tara asked, “Not working?’

“No.”

“OK, Dawnie. Let’s try to increase the strength on the warding. Do you remember the meditations we did last week? Relax and let me merge our auras.”

The teen looked terrified but grabbed the older witch’s hand and closed her eyes. Several minutes passed as she struggled to clear her mind and float in the inner dark. Sensing Dawn was finally ready, Tara touched the girl’s aura and merged it with her own. It was an odd feeling, like being two people at the same time, but it gave the witch a power boost. She began the warding spell a second time.

“Dawn? Dawnie?” a voice crackled out of the still-playing radio.

Tara grunted as her student abruptly pulled from their link. “Mommy?”

The microwave exploded with a flash, glass covering the floor. Pale silver light overshadowed the blue glow from the earlier warding. Slowly, it began to take shape.

***

Faith moved through the hallway. The light from the TV ebbed and flickered with each scene change. No one was around, but the volume on the set blared in the empty room. The Slayer flicked the switch, but the screen didn’t go dark. The remote didn’t stop the images, either. Sudden lightening lit the room through the large bay window. Faith blinked, trying to see. When her vision cleared, she took an involuntary step back. Every piece of furniture hung upside down in the air. “Damn. I hate magic. What happened to normal vamps and shit?” she asked out loud. “What the fuck do you want?” No one answered, and the Slayer felt stupid.

“Whatever.” She stalked through the room and climbed the stairs. Everything looked normal, and she smiled a bit at the utter mess in Dawn’s room. Buffy’s room was sterile, but Faith went in, praying her sister Slayer still kept the weapons chest in her closet. It was there, and she yanked out a short sword and a stake, dropping the kitchen knife on the bed.

One more room and then she could go check on the girls. As she stepped into the hallway, the lid of the chest snapped shut. Only Slayer reflexes kept her alive. Buffy’s two-handed axe sliced through the air where her head had been. Rolling under the weapon, Faith got to her feet, sword in her right hand, stake in her left. The hallway was narrow, and the brunette cursed the lack of room. The heavy axe moved in unseen hands, forcing the Slayer back to avoid injury. She managed to block several of the swings before the short sword snapped in half.

Now Faith found herself really struggling to avoid the blade. It drove her back toward the stairs, and she knew she had to be careful. However, she miscalculated as she ducked a particularly nasty shot at her head. All her weight fell on the stair railing, and the wood pulled from the wall. The Slayer dropped toward the ground floor.

***

Willow had to bite back a cheer at the Slayer’s husky words. “You sure, Baby?” She gazed into Buffy’s eyes, trying to gauge her sincerity.

Her friend didn’t reply verbally. Instead, she reached up, brushing the redhead’s lips with her own. A sweet smile tilted her lips, and her hands slid slowly up to cup the witch’s head.

“You are so beautiful, Buffy.” Willow bent and kissed the girl below her. “I just don’t want you to feel pressured. I know how you get with prophecies and all.”

“You know what my first thought was when I heard Slayers and witches go together?” Willow had trouble following the conversation. Her body hummed with arousal, and she watched the blonde’s lips move as she talked, imagining them pressed to her own.

“Will, you OK in there?” Laughter threaded the Slayer’s voice.

“More than OK, Buffy.” She pressed down into the blonde, groaning at the pressure it put on her swollen clit. “What was your thought?”

Breathing audibly after the redhead’s grind, Buffy replied, “I was mad, because we wasted all those years.” She stood, lifting her witch into her arms. “Do you believe that I want you, Will? That I’m not doing this because your parents expect it?” She met green eyes fearlessly. “I love you, Willow. I have for a long time.”

“Oh. Um, OK.”

Buffy grinned, seeing the return of the shy hacker from her sophomore year. “Breathe, Will.” She laid her bundle on the bed. She desperately wanted this, but wasn’t sure where to start.

Willow held out her hand, inviting the suddenly hesitant blonde to join her. When Buffy was stretched out next to her, the redhead looked at her seriously. “This isn’t any different than being with a man, Baby. I may be missing a few pieces, but you should be familiar with their replacements. Do whatever you want. Explore, play, tease. This is our time, Buffy. We don’t have to rush or do anything that makes you uncomfortable.”

The blonde tried, really. But the Slayer broke down and giggled.

“Well, that wasn’t the reaction I was expecting.” Willow smiled at the carefree sound. “What’s so funny?”

“We are.” Buffy managed to stifle the laughter though she continued to smile. “It’s been five years. I’ve lusted after you. You lusted after me. And we both dated how many other people? My God, Will. I could have had you and not Parker or Riley.” She sobered and shuddered. _Or Spike_.

Willow responded to the change in mood. “My turn to ask…you OK in there?”

“Hmmm, yeah. Got a bit lost for a minute.” She shook off the memory of the blond vampire. “I’m back now. Please, Will, I want you, and I have no idea what that means or what to do.”

The redhead accepted the responsibility. “Shhh. Don’t worry. I know what to do. Let me show you what your feelings mean.” She rose up on her elbow and reached for Buffy’s shirt with her other hand. Despite the fine tremor in the long fingers, she deftly unbuttoned the silk blouse, brushing the edges open before gazing at the Slayer’s bra-encased breasts.

“Tell me if anything makes you uncomfortable or you don’t like it.” Willow reached underneath the Slayer and unhooked the bra. “Raise up a little, sweetie.” Wide hazel eyes looked at her trustingly as Buffy did as requested. Seconds later, the witch gently stroked the pale skin of the blonde’s breasts, circling, but not touching the nipples. Continuing the caresses, she slowly drew her mouth down Buffy’s torso, licking and nipping the flesh.  Her reward was the deep moan torn from the Slayer’s throat and the suddenly heavier breathing.

“That’s it, Baby. Relax and enjoy. You can trust me, Buffy. I’ll never hurt you. Let go.” She moved up the bed, replacing her fingers with her mouth, laving the hardened peaks with the flat of her tongue.

Small hands tangled in her hair, pressing her harder into the pale mounds. “Oh my God, Will.”

“I’m doing OK so far?” Willow asked, before going back to her task.

“Do any better, Will, and I’m not going to last for whatever you do next.” Buffy’s voice cracked on the last word as the redhead bit gently on her right nipple.

Letting her voice slip up an octave, the witch asked with false innocence, “Then you don’t want me to keep going?’

“Bitch.” The word exploded from the writhing Slayer.

“Now, now. Be nice, or you won’t get the prize.” Willow flicked a fingernail at a nipple and smiled triumphantly at the hoarse shout from her lover. Deciding to move her teasing farther south, she worked to remove the blonde’s pants and lingerie. This time, she didn’t have to ask Buffy to help. Slim hips bucked up as soon as the zipper hit bottom, inviting the redhead to slide them down. The witch was quick to comply with the unspoken request. “Good girl. Are you ready, Sweetie?”

“Please, Will. Please. No more teasing.” The Slayer’s hips moved restlessly, seeking to ease the ache at the blonde’s center.

“No more teasing,” Willow agreed.


	19. Chapter 19

Kissing the Slayer with all the love she felt, Willow slipped two fingers inside the blonde. Buffy groaned into her mouth, bucking, trying to get her lover to move faster, deeper. “Easy, baby. Don’t rush it. We have all the time in the world.” The witch pulled back a little, watching her lover’s eyes darken with desire. “You are so beautiful, Buffy.” She pressed an open-mouthed kiss to the Slayer’s throat.

Although Buffy was writhing in need, she smiled at the witch’s words. “Charmer. I look in the mirror every day. You don’t need to exaggerate, Will. I can see the love in your eyes. I don’t have to have the empty compliments to be with you.”

The thrusting fingers stopped abruptly. “Excuse me?”

Sensing trouble in paradise, the Slayer scrambled to repair the damage. “Um, hey, it’s OK, really. I love you, Will. That’s all I meant.”

Green eyes pinned her to the bed. “If I ever,” a thumb flicked across the blonde’s clit, “hear that kind of crap again,” a finger curled up and tapped her g-spot, “I will unleash a firestorm on your head.” A third digit slammed home. “Got it?”

Struggling to answer, Buffy croaked, “Yeah, Will.” She pushed up into the slim fingers driving her mad. “I can’t…can’t hold out much longer.”

“I don’t think you really understand why I’m mad, baby,” the witch cooed. She had to grin at the dazed look she received. It was no use trying to explain with Buffy in this condition.

“Will?” the name came out, whine and plea mixed.

Pushing away the lingering hurt at the Slayer’s disbelief, Willow granted her girl what she needed. Driving her fingers in fast and hard, she kissed Buffy with all the love she’d hidden over the years.

For her part, the blonde jerked in surprise at the rougher pace, feeling her body tighten and then explode in pleasure. Sobbing, she slumped into the pillows, aftershocks shaking her body. Warm arms cradled her, and a soft voice whispered words of love and encouragement in her ear as she slowly came down from the orgasm. “Oh…my….God. I don’t know where you learned that, Will, but I need to thank them.”

Grinning wickedly, Willow murmured, “You can tell Tara how much you appreciate her skills when we get back to Sunnydale.” She burst into laughter at the bright blush covering the panting Slayer. “Come on, Buffy. You didn’t really buy that shy, stuttering act, did you?”

“Will…TMI,TMI. I’ll never be able to look her in the face again.” The blonde turned her head, trying to bury her face in the pillow.

Stifling her laughter, Willow drew the Slayer into her arms, snuggling close and resting her cheek on the blonde head. “I’m sorry, baby. No more teasing, at least for tonight. You need to rest.”

The blonde blinked tired eyes. “What about you?”

Feeling the arousal heavy in her body, the redhead tightened her arms around her lover. “In the morning, Buffy. I want you to finally realize that love isn’t about performing or even sharing.” She tipped up the other girl’s head. “Sometimes, it’s about taking care of each other and just being together. You need to rest, sweetie. You look so worn out.”

“I…it’s been…”the blonde couldn’t go on.

Willow waited patiently. The Slayer had never been good at emotional talks. Now wasn’t any different. The words ground to a halt and never resumed. Silent tears worked their way down Buffy’s face, and the witch wasted no time before kissing them away. “We’ll work on it together. Always.” Rounding up the rumpled blankets, Willow tucked them both in, keeping the blonde close. “Go to sleep, sweetie. I’ll be right here when you wake up.”

***

Dawn took a hesitant step forward. The shimmering light gathered form slowly, until a human outline stood across the kitchen. “Mom?” the young brunette tried again. At her words, the outline solidified. Joyce Summers smiled at her youngest daughter.

“Hello, Dawnie.” The older blonde seemed radiant. “I’m sorry I had to leave.”

Tears streaming, Dawn shook her head frantically. “You’re back now. That’s all that matters.” She started to pick her way through the glass on the floor. “Why are you here? Is it some kind of resurrection spell?”

“No, Dawnie. Something brought me back here.” The older blonde looked at the young brunette sympathetically. “Don’t be afraid. Everything will make sense soon.”

“If something brought you back, then do you get to stay?” There was a painful pleading quality to the words.

“That’s up to you, Dawnie.” Joyce looked over shoulder. “Do you really want me back?”

The lights flickered off, and a loud banging resounded throughout the house. Just as quickly, the kitchen brightened again. Mrs. Summers was gone.

It was too much for Dawn. Sobbing hysterically, she shrieked at the empty room, “Why are you doing this? Why?”

Tara moved to embrace the younger witch. “We need to find Faith, Sweetie.”

“What about Mom? She might come back.”

“Dawnie…”the blonde hesitated. “Your mom was never here. I don’t know what we saw, but it wasn’t Joyce.” She fumbled for words. “All I could sense was energy. It was very old.”

Unwilling to hear what her friend was trying to say, Dawn stepped away. “I’ll stay her while you get Faith.” She stared at the spot where Joyce had appeared. “Just in case.”

“It’s not safe for you to be here alone, Sweetie.” Tara watched with troubled eyes. Although the younger witch had gotten better since Buffy’s return, her emotional stability was shaky at best. “Come on. Let’s go make sure Faith hasn’t gotten into trouble and we’ll come right back.” She held out her hand. “Please, Dawnie.”

Shoulders slumped, Dawn took the proffered hand. They never made it to the door.

All the lights went out again and a magical wind blew through the kitchen. The walls shook as the mystical energy built. Cabinet doors open and closed and the banging resumed. Shouting over the howling wind, Tara said, “We need to try to cast this magic out. Link with me again.”

Too frightened to argue, Dawn merely closed her eyes, trying to block out the madness around her. Her control wasn’t the best, but she was able to reestablish her earlier bond with Tara. The more experienced witch merged their energies. Through their link, Dawn heard the blonde say, “You have to stay focused this time, Sweetie. No matter what you think you see or hear.”

“I’ll try,” Dawn thought back. She felt a drain on her magical energies and concentrated on smoothing the power transfer. Faintly, she heard Tara start to incant a spell.

            “I cast you from this place.

            It is your poison,

            And your bane.”

A steady green light grew around them, pushing against the magical attack. Despite the continued drain of her energy stores, Dawn started to smile. They were doing it. The evil was being forced back.

“Dawn, why are you doing this? Don’t you want me to stay?” Joyce reappeared a few feet away. Her smile gone, the older Summers seemed tired and worn.

Biting her lips against the words longing to spring out, Dawn turned her head away. She wasn’t going to fall for that again.

The green light expanded as Tara began the next verse.

            “It is the light from within,

            That shows us the way.

            Listen now.”

Lightning flashed inside the room, but the blonde witch calmly completed the spell.

            “Thrice shall I speak to thee, Evil.

            I cast thee out.

            I cast thee out.

            I cast thee out.”

The green light exploded, particles reaching the farthest corners of the room. Silence descended on the kitchen. No wind, no banging…no Joyce.

Tara released her hold on Dawn, both physically and magically. “I’m so sorry, Sweetie.”

“Me, too.” For a long minute, the brunette stared at the space where Joyce had been. “I really wish it had been her, Tara. I miss her so much.” She dragged her blue eyes back to the older witch. “Let’s get out of here.”

“Alright, Dawnie. We need to make sure Faith is OK.” Both girls moved cautiously out of the kitchen. Furniture lay scattered around the living room and the TV blared the soundtrack to an infomercial. “Goddess! Faith!” Tara saw the Slayer lying in the shattered remains of an antique table by the stairs.

***

Buffy basked in the warmth and peace of Willow’s arms. The redhead lay snuggled against her right side, arms wrapped securely around her shoulders. The Slayer had never felt this level of inner balance. She raised her head slightly and pressed a light kiss to the pale throat. A grin appeared when Willow shuddered and mumbled in her sleep, “Oh, yeah, baby. Just like that.”

 _Just like that, huh?_ Buffy silently echoed. Maybe making love to her witch would be easier if she were asleep. The Slayer was reluctant to travel down this road with Willow’s green eyes watching her every move. Moving slowly, she slipped out of the witch’s grasp and propped herself up on an elbow. Willow’s skin was pale and liberally covered in freckles. Hesitantly, the blonde pressed kisses to the redhead’s shoulder and arm. The skin goose pimpled immediately. Figuring she must be doing something right, Buffy leaned in further, sliding her lips across Willow’s chest to nibble at her other shoulder.

“B-Buffy?” a husky, sleepy voice inquired.

Pulling back abruptly, the blonde panicked. “Oh, hey, Will. Sorry if I woke you.”

A sensual smile appeared on the face next to hers. “I’m not. What a way to start the morning. You got anything else planned? Cause I have a few ideas of my own.”

The Slayer relaxed a little at the gentle teasing. “No. Kinda ran out of ideas.” She swallowed. “I don’t know what you want, Willow.”

Heavy lids propped open, revealing bright green eyes. “Sure you do, baby. I don’t want anything different than you. Do what makes you feel good.”

Still afraid, but needing to touch and taste her witch, Buffy followed Willow’s suggestion. She swiped a rough tongue across the redhead’s nipples, grinning in delight at the shuddering breath and stiffening peaks she got in response. She continued to torment Willow’s breasts and trailed her fingers down the long torso until they rested at the top of the auburn curls. Looking at the other girl’s flushed face, Buffy knew she was ready. Combing her fingers through the wiry hair, she teased the swollen clit, circling it until it stiffened and grew larger.

Willow responded to her actions by pressing both heels to the bed and arching into her hand. “Please, Buffy. Oh, Goddess…so close.”

The Slayer nodded. “I love you, Willow,” she murmured and rubbed harder. It didn’t take long. The witch stiffened and then shook as waves of pleasure inundated her.

It was an erotic sight, and Buffy felt her own body suddenly pulse with orgasm. _What the…_? The blonde collapsed against the witch, body alive with sexual energy. “Will?” she managed to croak. “What just happened?”

A dazed voice replied, “I think we just got married.”


	20. Chapter 20

Willow knew the words were a mistake instantly. Buffy’s face went blank, and she pulled away. The languorous post-climax feeling disappeared, and the witch sat up. “Sweetie, I didn’t mean it like that. It was a joke.”  The Slayer’s eyes were distant, and Willow wanted to smack herself. She knew all about the blonde’s commitment issues. Six years of best friend duty gave her a lot of insight into what made the other girl tick.

“Buffy? Hey, come on. Talk to me, please.” The redhead was near tears at the continued silence. How could she go from ecstasy to this tearing pain so fast? Deciding to use their new - and obviously unwelcome - bond, Willow sent a tendril of power through the link. She wasn’t quite sure how it worked, but when she reached the Slayer’s end of the connection, her eyes widened. Narrowing her focus, she pulled in more power, and sent a tight beam all the way through the bond.

 _I’m not going away, you know_ , she said into the blonde’s mind.

Buffy jerked, surprised at the sensation. “Will?”

 _We’re linked now, sweetie. You can’t hide your thoughts or emotions from me._ The witch was inundated with panic. _It goes both ways. If you can calm down a little, I’ll show you_. Slowly, the fear flooding the conduit drained away. _That’s it, Beautiful. There’s no bad here. Trust me…and yourself._ When Willow sensed the blonde was ready, she touched her mind, brushing it with affectionate mental fingers, caressing away the lingering fear and tension. Knowing the Slayer didn’t understand how the link worked, she showed the smaller girl how to link their minds together and pulled her along the channel until…

_…They stood under a towering oak, acres of velvety green stretching all around. “This is our place, Buffy. A place where there are no secrets or insecurities. We only have to be ourselves.”_

_Buffy strode away, trying to flee. But, no matter how much she wanted to leave, something held her back. Finally, frustrated, she spun back to her oldest friend. “How can you want this?” the Slayer burst out. “How can you want me?”_

_“How can I not?” Willow responded patiently. She looked at the edgy blonde and tried to explain.  “I’ve loved you since the day we met. For a long time, the feeling was buried. I didn’t recognize what was there.” She tilted her head, choosing her words carefully. “The bond gives us each a view into the other. I can feel what’s bothering you, Buffy, but I want you to tell me. Please. You have to start talking to me, and stop shutting me out.”_

_Some of her witch’s grief touched her, and the Slayer flinched. This was going to take getting used to. “I don’t even know where to start, Wills. I’m pretty sure I loved you, too. And that makes me sad…and angry.” The blonde head dropped until her chin nearly touched her chest. “Why didn’t Giles tell us about the bond? If he knew for all those years…” Tears streaked the gaunt face. “Damn it, Will. We wasted so much time, did so many stupid things.”_

_Even though she’d promised herself she’d let Buffy talk, Willow asked, “What bothers you most, sweetie? The fact that Giles might have lied to you again? Or that we weren’t together from the beginning?” She watched the other girl closely, moving so that they were mere inches apart. Looking down into the scared hazel eyes, she kept pressing. “Buffy, talk to me. Tell me what has you on the verge of running. There’s nothing you can tell me that will push me away. I swear.”_

_Buffy remained stubbornly silent. Feeling down the conduit, Willow tried to divine exactly what was causing the emotional shutdown. “Are you still hung up on our past relationships? Buffy, I don’t blame you for getting involved with Parker or Riley. Hell, I understand trying to look and feel normal.” Something tickled her inner senses. She was close. “Is it Angel? It’s OK that you loved him, Sweetie.” Once again, the Slayer tried to pull away. So, something there. “You can’t run from this anymore, my Slayer. Here, we share everything. If you can’t talk about it, lower your barriers and let me see the images, feel the emotions.”_

_“No! Never! If you knew…”_

_“I am not going anywhere, Buffy. Not ever.” Willow touched the frightened blonde and opened herself completely. “Here, Buffy. Let me show you my dark places. I’m scared, too, my love, but we need to trust in our bond.” Images flowed around them. Kissing Xander after Spike kidnapped them. Taunting Faith in the Mayor’s office. Fighting with Tara about the magic use. Hiding the information about the resurrection spell until it was too late to back down. The witch shuddered internally and kept going, letting the Slayer see the meeting with Rack and her fight to throw the wizard out of her mind.  “See, sweetie, we both have things we’d rather not talk about. But I want you to know me…all of me.”_

_Buffy held Willow tightly. As the images floated by, she shared in the pain, embarrassment, and shame the redhead felt. “Oh, baby, I love you. No matter what.” Tears streaked her face, but she pulled down the barriers around her mind. She didn’t reach out or attempt to share. Instead, she waited, giving the witch tacit permission to look inside. So many old hurts and regretted actions. But the one center stage in her thoughts…Spike. She froze internally, remembering his cold hands holding her roughly, slamming her into the nearest headstone or mausoleum. When she felt the last vision fade away, she stood, head bowed, waiting for the inevitable rejection._

_Gentle fingers caressed her cheek. “Oh, sweetie. I love you. I can’t believe I wasn’t there for you when you needed me.”_

_“Will?” Buffy was stunned. How could Willow even stand to touch her?_

_“I love you, Buffy. I can feel your love for me. We can deal with the past, all the regrets and mistakes, as long as we stay open and share our feelings.” She sent a burst of laughter through the link and watched a grin blossom on the Slayer’s face. “See?”_

_Warm hazel eyes caught hers. “Yes.” The Slayer held out her hand. “I understand now, Will. Let’s go back.”_

_“I’ll follow wherever you want to go, my Slayer.”_

***

Tara and Dawn rushed to Faith. The brunette Slayer lay motionless. The blonde witch knelt by her side, gently touching her throat. Finding a strong pulse, she held her hand palm down over the Slayer. Crimson light stretched from her hand to Faith’s body, following the witch’s hand as she passed it slowly up and down the still form.

After a few minutes, the Slayer moaned and opened her eyes. “T-you and Dawn gotta get out!” She jerked into a sitting position. “The axe-“

Tara grabbed the younger girl by the shoulders. “It’s OK, Faith. Dawn and I were able to cast the magic out. It’s gone.”

Panting, the Slayer relaxed slightly. “’k. Good to know.” Brown eyes swept the entry hall. “Man, that last step was a bitch.” Pushing the blonde’s hands away, Faith climbed unsteadily to her feet. “You sure that thing’s gone?”

“For the moment, anyway.” Tara stood as well. “We need to let Buffy and Willow know what’s going on.”

“Yeah, but we don’t have a fucking clue, do we?” The brunette smiled slightly. “Wow. That sounds vaguely familiar. You think we’re OK for a bit? Cause I’m still a little fuzzy from them drugs Wes gave me.”

Dawn frowned. “What drugs?” Her eyes got wide. “Did you get hooked on drugs in prison?”

“Dawn!” Tara protested.

Faith, however, chuckled. “Slayer, Dawnie, remember? Takes some pretty heavy shit to get us jacked up. I wasn’t gonna give up that many packs just to get a fix. Did a favor for Angel, but I had to take some weird-ass potion. Kinda making things fuzzy around the edges.”

“We’ll be safe here, Faith, but I don’t want to wait too long.” Tara frowned. “I hope Willow’s doing better. She’s the best I know at research. Maybe she can give us idea what we’re dealing with.”

Moving slowly, the brunette limped into the living room, dodging tables and chairs displaced by the magic earlier. “So, you still haven’t filled me in on the sitch here. What’s wrong with Red, and why was B so big on getting me here? I kinda figured she’d be out for my blood once she knew I was out.” She dropped onto the couch with a sigh.

“Yeah, I don’t think I know everything either.” Dawn’s voice held lingering hurt. “Pretty much I was the only one still helping Willow out when she left, but Buffy was really intent on getting to her. And she’s been super weird the last couple of days. Sorry, Faith,” she looked at the older girl sadly, “but I’ve never seen her so ready to ask for help. She’s always gotten pissed whenever I mentioned Faith. Why the turnaround?” She sat next to Faith, looking at the older witch.

Tara grimaced but took a seat in the armchair “I’m really wiped out. Will the condensed version work until we get some sleep?”

Slayer and Key shared a look. “For now,” Dawn said. “But sometime soon I want all the gory details.” Faith simply nodded her agreement.

“OK.” Closing her eyes, Tara searched for the best way to explain. “This gets complicated and none of us come out looking our best. When Willow did the resurrection spell, she opened a door of some sort into the Otherworld. The spell forced her through a series of magical trials with the god Osiris. During the trials, something big and evil slipped through the open door.”

“The thing doing the freaky with the house?” Faith wanted to know.

“Probably, but they could be unrelated.” The witch didn’t sound convincing. “I’m not entirely sure where the evil went, but it is possible that Willow’s ‘addiction’ was more a matter of possession or the destruction of her magical reservoirs.” She looked at the pair on the couch. “She had too much power too soon. There was no way for her to control it.”

Dawn nodded. “She knew the reservoir had been damaged, but I don’t think she made the connection until it was too late. When we went to Rack’s, Will was looking for a fix.”

The Slayer had been very quiet during the exchange and explanation. “Let me see if I got it straight, Blondie. Red did a spell that brought B back from the dead. Afterward, she got a big dose of mojo. Kinda like giving a kid superpowers. Only, she couldn’t handle them, and the Super Friends didn’t ask questions. They just assumed the worst and tried to ‘help’ the poor addicted witch.” Bitterness seethed in the husky voice.

“Yes.” The blonde met the pain-filled brown eyes.

Faith grunted. “Guess some things never change.’

“What are you talking about?” Dawn glanced back and forth between the other girls.

“Old shit, D. You were too little to have been involved.” The Slayer leaned into the back of the couch. “Just kinda ironic Red got caught in the same net as me.”

“That wasn’t how I heard the story.” The witch’s voice was soft, but implacable.

A bark of laughter echoed in the room. “No, I’m sure the Scoobies tell a different version.” The brunette rolled her head, loosening tight muscles. “It doesn’t matter anymore, T. Mostly I’m over it. With all the excitement and the story, it came back a little.”

Throughout the tense conversation, Dawn had been trying to piece things together. Finally, the pieces fell into place. “It does matter, Faith. Buffy’s an idiot.” She glared when Faith and Tara laughed. “Well, she is. I mean, give her something to kill and she’s the best. But ask her to do anything more emotional and people-oriented and she’s hopeless.” Blue eyes looked at the tired Slayer next to her. “You have to get her to talk to you about what happened before, Faith. If you don’t, she’ll just stuff you into a corner until she needs you.”

Faith shrugged. “It’s a good place to be. I ain’t in your sister’s league, and we both know that. I came back because B actually asked me to help out. It’s way more than I deserve, D. If she wants me to leave once she’s got Red back on the right side of the fight, I’m gone. This is her town. I can find somewhere else to set up shop.”

“That’s not-“ The youngest Summers broke off at the knock on the door.

“Fuck. I thought you said this magic thing was gone.” The Slayer jumped from the couch and stalked toward the front door. Wrenching it open, she stared at a rumpled looking Rupert Giles and three teenaged girls.


	21. Chapter 21

“Giles!” Faith said, shocked to see the older man.

A tired smile lifted one corner of the Watcher’s mouth. “Hello, Faith. I didn’t expect to see you here. I hope you’re doing well.”

A grin flashed, showing off the brunette’s dimples. “Hey, you know me, G-man. It’s all good.” She stepped out of the house, looking for his bags. “I usually travel light, but no bags? Didn’t take you for the type.”

While she and the Englishman spoke, the three girls filed passed into the foyer. “Nice place,” one of them announced in an accent Faith didn’t recognize. “Bit of a mess, though.”

Cocking an eyebrow at her former Watcher, the Slayer looked at the trio wandering in the house. Before he could answer the unspoken question, Dawn’s voice cracked out. “Hey! Who are you? What are you doing in my house?”

“Ah, ya might want to get in there before things start flying around, G-man,” Faith commented.

Looking harried, he moved inside and an ear-splitting shriek wafted down the street. “Giles, ohmygod, when did you get here? Faith didn’t say it was you!” The brunette Slayer peered into the house and laughed. Dawn was wrapped around Giles, hugging him tightly. Finally letting him go, the youngest Summers glared at Faith. “Why didn’t you tell us it was Giles? And who are these girls?”

Raising her hands, Faith shrugged. “Hell if I know, D. You might want to give Giles a chance to answer.”

Flushing a little, Dawn backed down. “Sorry, Giles. It’s been a long night.”

“It isn’t going to get much better, I’m afraid,” the older man said. “I have bad news. Perhaps we could take this into the living room. We’ve been traveling for days.”

“Sure.” Faith took charge and led them toward the living room. “If you guys don’t feel up to the big conversation, the kitchen’s through there.” She gestured toward the doorway. The three teens brightened immediately. “Help yourselves, then. Pizza should be on the way, too.” Now without the three newcomers, the trio wandered in and sat down.

Tara looked up and smiled widely. “Mr. Giles! Welcome home.”

“Hello, my dear. Perhaps you could stop the clean up for a moment. I believe we all need to talk.”

Faith dropped onto the couch. “Can we do a real short version? We had a freaky night and I’m done in.” She yawned hugely. “’Sides, B ain’t here. That means another version when she gets back.”

Giles pursed his lips. “Where is Buffy?” He directed the question at the room, but looked directly at Tara.

“She’s with Willow,” the witch replied quietly.

“We have to go there.” The Watcher took off his glasses, chewing on the earpiece. “My dears, the Evil that came through when Willow did the resurrection spell…it calls itself the First. Angel dealt with it a few years ago, and it nearly convinced him to kill himself. It is the oldest and most powerful force for the Dark the world has ever known. After the past years in semi-exile, it’s returned and has been gathering an army and building strength. Two nights ago, it attacked the Council headquarters in Devonshire.”

Faith sat forward. “What happened?”

Giles met her eyes. “It was destroyed – utterly. Not a single person in the building survived. All the records and texts burned to ash.” He opened a satchel that had been slung across his back and took out a handful of books. “I had taken these from the library there when Buffy first called. They are all that remain of the Council’s vast research. At the same time as the destruction in Devonshire, agents of the First began assassinating Watchers and their Potentials. I was able to locate three of the girls.”

“Those kids in there are potential Slayers? You’ve got to be kidding me. They couldn’t take out a newbie vamp if all three of them were working together.” A knock interrupted. “I hate to think what’s out there this time,” Faith groused.

“It’s probably the pizza guy, grumpy,” Dawn teased. “I’ll get it.” She stood and walked to the door, opening it cautiously. As she had predicted, a teen in a multicolored shirt stood on the porch, pizza box in hand. The young brunette paid for the food and closed the door. “I’m going to take this into the kitchen. You guys want anything before I go?”

Three head shook a negative and the teen disappeared with her dinner. “Mr. Giles, were you able to find any information about the prophecy?” Tara asked.

“A few vague passages in the Watcher’s Codex. Nothing concrete.” He sounded frustrated. “I believe the First went after the Council to keep that information from us.”

“So we got ourselves another prophecy.” Faith began to pace around the room. “I hope B already knows, cause I ain’t wanting to be around if she don’t.”

“She knows,” Giles commented.

Striding around the cluttered space, the brunette went on. “She’s expecting you to show up with the answers, just like always, G-man. You don’t have ‘em. All you got are a pile of useless books and three little girls. Stop talking. Start doing,” she declared. “If we don’t have enough information on this First thing, we need the whole gang here to help out. B and Red gotta come back from their vacation in the boonies and we need X-Man and his girl, too.”

“I agree, Faith. It’s an excellent suggestion, but I don’t think we are safe here.” Giles smiled slightly. “If I remember correctly, you lot call what I am proposing a ‘road trip.’ It would be best if we all traveled out of Sunnydale.” 

***

This time when Buffy opened her eyes, Willow was awake and staring back. “Someone’s coming,” the redhead announced.

“You mean the big evil thing?”

“No, Sweetie. There’s someone coming from the house.” The witch frowned. “I think it’s Drew.”

Pushing herself up, the Slayer grumbled. “They were all for the honeymoon. This probably isn’t a wedding gift. How long do we have?”

“Not long. She’s on the path leading to the cabin. Once she’s through the wards, only a couple of minutes.”

Dropping a gentle kiss on Willow’s lips, Buffy sighed. “Not even one night to celebrate. How much do our lives suck?” She rolled out of bed and hunted down their scattered clothing. “Can you sense her mood? Should I have weapons handy?”

The redhead grimaced. “I can’t tell.” She pulled on shirt and pants. “She’s shielded. I’d have to go through or around the barrier to read her emotions.” Willow paused. “Drew just shut down the wards. You ready?”

“Truth?” Buffy tried to smile, and failed miserably. “I’m still not back to normal, and the number of Big Bads just keeps growing.”

Willow moved in close, wrapping her arms around the grim Slayer. _Just remember you aren’t alone anymore_ , she whispered through their link. _I’ll always be here for you, and there’s the Scooby gang waiting to help as well._

 _I remember, Wills_. A shy, hesitant trickle of love and happiness touched the witch. _Love you_.

“Willow? Buffy?” A tentative voice called from the door.

“Come on in, Drew,” Buffy called back. She stayed in Willow’s embrace, though, trying to extend the contact as long as possible.

The door slowly opened and Willow’s mirror image stepped inside. Despite the worry shadowing her eyes, she grinned at their positions. “Looks like you guys were able to settle your differences. Mom and Mama will be glad. When you try to deny the bond, it can really mess you up.”

The new “couple” shared a look. “Great. Another thing to ask Giles and the Moms about,” Buffy bitched. “What bad news do you have for us? Cause I know you aren’t here to celebrate with us.”

“I wish I was,” Drew commented, meeting Buffy’s hazel eyes. “Willow’s back and she found her bond. This is supposed to be the best thing ever. But trouble’s on the way.”

“Vamp, demon, magic, or all of the above?” Willow asked calmly.

“None of the above – yet,” Drew said. She looked at her sister. “I think I was expecting more freakage.” She glanced at Buffy. “What the hell is up with you two? Big Evil on the way and you just stand there. I don’t get it.”

Grinning faintly, Buffy explained. “This is our, what, Will? Fourth, fifth apocalypse?”

“Close enough. Though, I think it’s more like eight or nine.”

Holding her witch’s hand, the Slayer moved toward the door. “After the first couple, it gets old. I mean, there’s still a rush and some fear, but you just don’t think about that. It’s a job.” Looking back at Drew, still standing in the same place, Buffy inquired, “What’s on the horizon?”

“Your Watcher and a bunch of other people are on their way here. He said he’s got information on something called the First and Willow’s prophecy.”

“Maybe we can get some answers, Sweetie,” the older redhead suggested. She felt Buffy’s tension spike through their link. Giles was a touchy subject. If he _had_ known of their bond, the damage to the relationship between Watcher and Slayer might never recover.

***

The walk back to the main house had been quiet. Buffy and Willow stayed close together, lost in thought. If Giles and the Scoobies were on the way, news wasn’t of the good. They entered the large kitchen to find the all the Hirsches. “Oh, damn,” Willow muttered. “If we’re all here, and they’re all coming…oh, damn.”

Jennifer smiled at the new couple. “It might not be as bad as you think.”

“Right. It’s probably worse.” Buffy stared unseeing across the crowded room. “My life and the lives of those around me are generally unhappy ones.”

Willow didn’t hesitate. Opening herself fully, she dove through the conduit linking her to the Slayer. _Enough, Buffy. We don’t have time for the Depresso Gal routine. The gang’s all coming. That means they have your…our back. We need to get my family ready. I don’t think even Kirstan’s faced off with something this big._

The Slayer took a deep breath. “Sorry.” Her voice was soft so she tried again, meeting Jennifer’s eyes. “Sorry. I guess I wasn’t ready for the real world to find us here.” She scanned the room. “Experience says that if the Giles and the Scoobies are headed this way, we need to be ready for anything. Jennifer, we’re going to need room – lots of it. A research center with all your magical texts and Internet access. Kirstan, Slayers make bad researchers. Faith is even worse than I am. Is there someplace we can burn off some excess energy?”

Smiling at her lover’s rebound, Willow took a chair, watching the Slayer ready her troops.


	22. Chapter 22

Buffy finished the last of her breakfast and smiled at Willow. “You ready to face the gang, Wills?”

“No,” Willow answered with a quirky grin. “I’d much rather be hiding out in the guest house.” She kissed Buffy lightly. “But, I think I’m ready to unveil the new me.”

Standing and taking her plate to the sink, Buffy considered that. “You know, we’ve always been there for each other, but this is way more now.” She reached through the link, holding Willow closely in her mind. They stayed huddled together as Buffy washed her dishes and then returned to the table. “They’re here, aren’t they?” she asked.

“Yep. I felt them cross the warding a few minutes ago. How did you know?”

“Faith.” Buffy put a hand on Willow’s shoulder when she sensed her witch tense. “Careful, baby. She’s changed. I can tell.” She grinned at the feisty look in Willow’s green eyes. “Hey, you aren’t going to go all Jealous Will are ya? You can only do that when I can drag you off and prove my love for you.”

Willow blushed and ducked her head. “Buffy!”

Laughing, the Slayer pulled her witch to her feet. “Let’s go make sure our families don’t kill each other, ‘k?” Hand in hand, Buffy and Willow walked to the front porch, staring down the long drive.  “Think Kirstan’s ever going to forgive you for redecorating?”

“Um, not any time soon.” Willow looked at the remains of the once-lovely rock garden. “I don’t think she’s big on magical repairing, either.” She wrinkled her nose. “Kirstan’s got plans to teach me the fine art of gardening.”

“Nice. Remind me to be long gone before she hands me a pair of gloves, too.” Buffy tilted her head. “Will? It’s not just the Scoobies.”

Willow frowned, feeling along their link. “What are…?” She tapped her reservoir and pushed a tendril of power toward the approaching vehicles. “There are three of them.” Her voice lost some of the tension. “They feel a little like Drew. I wonder if Giles is bringing in some of the Potentials?”

“What are those? Witches?” Buffy asked.

“No.” Willow blushed. “I guess you haven’t gotten all the big news. There are girls who carry the Slayer Potential. According to Mom and Mama, the Council identifies them and then trains them.”

Quietly, Buffy considered that. “It makes sense. I mean, Merrick didn’t find me until after I’d been Called. He always said I’d flown under the radar.” Running her hand through her hair, she shrugged. “Guess Giles did know some of what Kirstan was talking about, then.”

“Hey! No borrowing trouble, Buff.” Willow wasn’t going to let the blonde fall back into her depression. “Wait until they get here, and we have a chance to talk. Give him a chance to explain, sweetie.”

Buffy didn’t reply. Her attention was riveted on the two vehicles entering the circular drive. Willow felt the fear backing up in the conduit. Unfortunately, her own scattered emotions added to the block. Forcing her mind to clear, she slowly worked on evening out the lingering regret and bitterness. By the time the Jeep and the mini-van stopped, she was relatively calm.

Doors opened and the gang emerged. “Come on, sweetie, let’s go say hi.” Willow pulled a very reluctant Buffy down the steps and through the charred garden. There were some new faces in the group that stood waiting for them. Willow focused there first. Time enough to deal with the core group. “I’m Willow,” she announced. “My family’s inside. Why don’t you go on in. They can start the explanations and introductions.”

Two of the girls left immediately, perhaps sensing the tension in the people around them. “Hi, Willow,” the remaining teen said, sliding into the witch’s personal space. Dark eyes peered up at the taller girl. “I’m Kennedy,” she purred.

Willow felt the surge of primal rage pulse through her link to Buffy and scrambled to keep the peace. This Slayer wanna-be wouldn’t stand a chance against a fighter of Buffy’s caliber. “Well, Kennedy, welcome to the ranch. I’m sure you’ll find everything you need inside.” She stepped past the short brunette, making sure to keep a firm hold on her Slayer. Buffy was nearly vibrating with the need to take on her challenger.

For a brief moment, it appeared to work. Kennedy turned her head to watch Willow walk away – and then she crossed the line. A small hand reached out and gripped the redhead’s arm. Before Willow could do anything, Buffy exploded. Two hands latched on to Kennedy’s jacket, lifting her easily off the ground.

Kennedy was too stunned to react. She hung, helpless.

In the back of her mind, the redhead felt Faith take a hesitant step in their direction, and she held up a warning hand. Slowly, carefully, Willow released enough energy to leach off some of Buffy’s emotions. The witch trembled as the dark feelings cascaded through her. Using magic like a sieve, she drained the powerful rage out of Buffy’s energy and sent it back to her Slayer, purified.

Willow moved closer to the pair, and placed a gentle hand on Buffy’s right arm. The blonde turned to her. Buffy’s eyes glowed a deep orange and a low growl tore from her throat. Continuing the purification and sending calming thoughts and her love through the link, Willow shut out all external distractions. “Buffy, leave her alone, sweetie. She didn’t know about us. How could she?”

“She’s one of us,” Buffy snarled. “I can feel the Line running through her. She touched you. _No one_ touches what’s mine.”

“Kennedy’s not touching me now, Buffy. Let it go. She won’t do it again.” Willow turned solid blue eyes on the frightened teen. “Tell her you won’t touch me again, Kennedy. Be convincing.”

Nodding frantically and staring at Buffy, Kennedy rushed to reassure the Slayer. “Hey, sorry about the grab. I didn’t know you two were together.” She tried to smile. “It’s good. I mean, I can do my looking elsewhere, you know? No more touching Willow.”

For a brief moment, Willow considered letting Buffy take one good swing at the arrogant brunette. The girl was far too insincere to placate her Slayer, but they didn’t have time for this. “OK, Buffy. Power down on the Slayer, sweetie.” Willow sighed in relief when Buffy’s eyes went back to hazel and the killing rage receded.

“Sorry, Wills.” Buffy mumbled. The Slayer dropped Kennedy back to the ground, and blushed as she turned to face the redhead. “Didn’t see that coming.” Peeking around Willow’s shoulder, she grinned a little at the shocked faces. “Um, hi, guys. Guess this wasn’t the best way to make the announcement, huh?”

Faith’s husky chuckle filled the air. “Hell, B, Junior there was such a pain on the trip, I’da liked to see you smack her down.”

Stepping away from Willow, Buffy took in the other Slayer. “Well, yeah, but you know Will. She’s never been big on the violence.”

Reaching back through their link, the Slayer whispered, _I’m OK. I promise. Let her go and help me with the gang. Xander’s drooling; probably with visions of us in his head._

It was enough. Willow flicked a glance at the young Potential. “I’d go inside, if I were you, Kennedy,” she commented coldly. Looking mutinous, the brunette stalked toward the porch. “Well, that certainly livened things up,” she remarked, linking her hand with Buffy’s as she faced the Scoobies. “Sorry for the show, but _what_ is her problem?”

Rubbing a hand over his hair, Giles commented, “Too much privilege and no boundaries, I am afraid.”

An uncomfortable silence fell.

Buffy took a deep breath. “Thanks for coming, guys. I guess you have some new info on the Big Bad.” She looked at all her old friends. “Will’s family has a place set up for us. If you want, we can take this inside.” Buffy met Giles’ eyes. “After the whole group thing, we can split up and research and, um, catch up on stuff.”

Everyone shuffled inside and got settled in the large living room-turned-research center. Jennifer smiled at the large, uncomfortable group. “I hope you know that you are welcome here. Despite the problems on the way, you’ve all been part of Willow’s life, and you are family.” She turned to Giles. “Mr. Giles, you called the meeting; would you like to start?”

“Thank you, Mrs. Hirsh,” he muttered. Leaning back into the couch and rubbing his hands along his pant legs, he searched for words. “When Buffy first called me several days ago, I discovered a prophecy that seemed to revolve around Willow and a great evil. I immediately began to research; unfortunately, the Council’s records were incomplete.” Giles took off his glasses, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “I enlisted the help of some Watchers I trusted, and we found one of the oldest works, a Watcher’s Codex from the 13th century, that mentioned a similar prophecy.”

Trying to put the older man at ease, Jennifer asked, “Do you have it for us?”

With a pained smile, Giles nodded. “Indeed, forgive me.” He fumbled for his satchel, pulling out the old, battered book. He handed it to Willow’s mother. “I’m afraid it is very vague. The only concrete information we discovered is that the resurrection spell released the First back into the world.”

“The First?” Buffy asked. “That thing that tried to talk Angel into killing himself?”

“Yes.” Replacing his glasses, Giles looked at his charge. “Apparently, when Angel broke the First’s hold and chose to be a Champion of Light, the First had to go into hiding of sorts. It needed to gather power, build its army. By the time of the resurrection spell, it was ready to try again. What you and Angel experienced four years ago is nothing compared to its might now.”

“So, what kinda army?” Faith sat on the floor, idly playing with Dawn’s shoestrings.

“I have no idea,” Giles admitted with a grimace. “The tomes which may have helped us are all gone now.” He looked around the room. “Willow, Buffy, the Council have been destroyed. Only a handful of Watchers remain around the world. The First has begun exterminating Potential Slayers and Watchers alike, and the Council Headquarters is a pile of smoldering rubble.”

Struggling to come to terms with that statement, Buffy stared at Giles. “But, you’re OK, right?”

Giles’ eyes glittered in the sunlight from the window. “Yes, my dear. A little worn from the long trip, but I assure you, I am fine.”

“What are we looking for, then?” Kirstan smiled apologetically at Watcher and Slayer. Interrupting their reunion was necessary. “We need information on the types and numbers of demons under his command. What else?”

“Magic,” Willow chimed in. “He was able to tap my potential. I’m sure he has his own power base now. In Sunnydale, there are a lot of witches he can drain.” She paled. “Jennifer, could he somehow tap the Hellmouth itself?”

“I’d hate to think so, but…” Jennifer nodded. “We’ll add that to the research list. I’d also like to know more about the prophecy. It won’t really affect the rest of the preparation, but we may need to be prepared for certain signs or portents.”

“Giles, are there more Potentials? I mean, other than Kennedy and the other two?” Buffy had to concentrate on not growling the brunette Potential’s name.

“Yes. But, we’ve lost contact with them.”

“We could use their help,” Kirstan interjected. “Jenny, Willow? Is there a way to set up a homing beacon? Get them headed this way without knowing exactly where they are?”

The two witches looked at each other. “I’m going with yes, but let’s table that one until we get all the current info organized,” Willow answered. “Tara, I’m thinking there’s going to be heavy casualties this time. You’re a healer. Can you work with Mom or maybe Drew to set up a plan for getting the injured someplace to heal?”

“I think we’re clear on witch-y tasks.” Buffy glanced at Faith. “I’m not built for too much book time. Faith and I can work with the new kids. They’ll need some seasoning before we can send them out on patrol.”

Kirstan looked disturbed. “You’re assuming a return to Sunnydale?”

“That’s where the Hellmouth is. We can’t leave the town unprotected. Plus, if the beacon spell doesn’t work, we still may get a few refugees that know my location.” Buffy frowned. “Where were you thinking of setting up shop?”

“Here, of course. I thought that’s what you had in mind when we talked this morning.”

“B, what if me and Blondie head back into town?” Faith asked. “You and Red can stay here and work with the little girls. I, um, I ain’t much of a role model and all, but I can keep an eye on things in town, let you know what’s on the way.”

“The plan doesn’t suck,” Buffy muttered. “I just don’t like making you take on all the vamps and demons the Hellmouth will start pumping out.”

“I’ll go, too,” Drew said quietly. She smiled when the Scoobies looked at her blankly. “I’m one of Willow’s sisters. I’m a witch, and I have Slayer potential. That makes me an assistant for both sides of the fight.”

“Looks like we have a plan, then.” Faith nodded. “I know you don’t wanna leave SunnyD unprotected and all, B, but me and Blondie been up since yesterday. I’m kinda not ready for the drive back. Could we catch some sleep, get an update on what the research crew finds, and head back this evening?”

Buffy nodded. “Yeah. We need you on your game.”

“That’s my cue, then.” Kirstan stood. “OK, ladies. We’ve got some spare rooms upstairs.”  It was clear the meeting was breaking up. Jenny was already grabbing books off the shelves. Xander, Dawn, and Anya got up to help her. Soon, only Buffy, Willow, and Giles remained.

“So, Giles, I think I’ve got some questions about Slayers and Witches,” Buffy began.


	23. Chapter 23

Buffy felt Willow’s hand on her thigh, cautioning her to take things slow. Looking at Giles, the Slayer understood. He looked terrible. Buffy had never seen him so tired and disheveled.

“Yes.” He grimaced, not meeting her eyes. “I dare say you do. However, perhaps we should do this someplace more private.” The room was a beehive of activity. Bodies sprawled on the floor, the couches, and at the long table up front.

“We can go back to the guest house,” Willow said. She stood up, holding out a hand to Buffy.

Buffy took the hand, but simply held it. A bright blush crawled up her face. “I’m thinking no to that.” Hazel eyes met green and then skittered away and Willow barely restrained a chuckle. _Will,_ Buffy whined through their link, _I am not taking my Watcher into the Cabin o’Love._

“Well, if the guest house is out, Mom and Mama have a small den we can use. Or we could just go outside and enjoy the scenery while we talk.” Willow cocked an eyebrow at Giles.

“My dear, perhaps outside?” He regained his feet and looped the satchel over his shoulder. “I think we will all be tired of this room soon enough.”

It didn’t take long for them to exit the house near the path to the outlying fields and the Training Shed. As the walked through the trees, Buffy searched for a way to start. There were so many things…Finally, she settled on the one, central question. “Why didn’t you tell me that Slayers and Witches are bonded?”

“The simple explanation is that the Council has stopped the practice.” Giles stuffed his hands pockets, head bowed. “By the time I was assigned to you, there had not been a paired Slayer for years.”

“Sorry, Giles.” Willow shook her head, unimpressed. “That doesn’t make sense. Mom hasn’t been retired that long, and she was bonded.”

“Yes, but once she was no longer active, the Council would not have informed her of the change in policy.” His voice sounded mechanical. “It is quite possible the news never reached her.”

“Giles, even _I_ can tell you don’t believe that crap, but we’ll tackle that discussion later.” Buffy’s voice wavered, and she struggled to keep going. “For now, if you knew about the bond, why didn’t you ever tell us? I don’t get it, Giles. Why let us flounder around, dating other people. Why?”

Sensing his Slayer’s anguish, Giles tried to find an answer that wouldn’t hurt her more. “I never considered the possibility, at first. Good Lord, Buffy,” he burst out, “you were both so young. Willow showed little sign of magical potential. And you…when I first began to wonder, you had Angel.”

At the mention of Angel, Buffy exploded. “That’s my point! If you have just told me about the bond, about Willow, there would have been no Angel. No ‘one moment of true happiness,’ no-“ her voice broke, “no Jenny and no Kendra. All that blood on my hands, why? Because you and the Council can’t just tell me anything.”

“Buffy-“ Giles broke off. He fought to control his own pain and rising agitation. “How could I have told you, Buffy? Bloody hell.” He moved closer, gripping Buffy’s arms. “Think back. You already thought I was too involved in your life. How well did it go when I cautioned you against dating Angel?”

“This is different,” Buffy insisted, jerking away.

Giles pulled off his glasses, rubbing at his tired eyes. “How? How is it different? I was just a meddling old man in your eyes.” Voice quiet but firm, he continued, “If I told you that Willow was most likely your soulmate, you’d have started running and never stopped.”

The Slayer had no answer for that, and simply stared at Giles, tears streaking her face. She was so tired of this. Of it all. She slumped, suddenly exhausted.

Choking on her own tears, Willow said quietly, “Be honest, Buffy. If Giles had told us, would we even have believed him? I wasn’t ready for that. Hell, I wasn’t ready for anything but secretly lusting after Xander.” She took Buffy’s hand, stroking the back with her thumb. “Even if we had been ready to explore the options, I don’t think anybody around us was. Principal Flutie or – even worse – Principal Snyder would have thrown us both out of Sunnydale High.”

The anger and sense of betrayal pouring through their link faltered. Willow pushed forward, watching to make sure the darker emotions continued to ebb. “You were still too much the Cordy-clone, caught up in the ‘I can still be a normal teen’ mode to want to date a girl. And besides,” she grinned quirkily, kissing Buffy quickly, “I wasn’t nearly as sexy then as I am now. I needed time to get rid of those jumpers and discover College Girl Willow.” Peering at Buffy through her lashes, she purred, “I might just be a match for you now, my Slayer.”

A smile twitched at Buffy’s lips, but Willow could still feel her pain, confusion, and lingering sense of betrayal. The Slayer was far too stubborn for her own good, but she deserved some answers. Willow stepped back, letting Buffy lead the rest of the conversation.

“Alright, Giles, “she grudgingly allowed. “So, maybe I wasn’t ready to hear the news. I get why you didn’t tell us about the bond. But…What about not having any support from the Council and not having any contact with other Slayers like Kirstan?”

“Ah, yes.” Giles replaced his glasses, and regarded the two girls solemnly. “I have no concrete answer for that.”

Running a shaking hand through her hair, Buffy pleaded softly “I don’t need something in a book, Giles. Right now, your opinion is fine.”

Giles nodded. “Very well. My own personal thoughts on the subject…” He hesitated, seemingly at a loss. “I believe it was an attempt by Quentin and the traditional-minded members of the Council to exert more control over Slayers.” He smiled slightly in memory, “As you once pointed out to him and his minions, the Council serves – or should serve – at the whim of the Slayers. However, there has always been a faction within the Council that believed otherwise. Slayers were tools. Toys to be played with and discarded when damaged or destroyed.”

“So Buffy was just a stepping stone to some kind of personal empire,” Willow commented bitterly.

With a pained smile, Giles nodded. “Yes.” He took a deep, slow breath. “I’m afraid I have other bad news as well.”

Wryly, Willow looked at Buffy. “I’m all with the ‘whoo hoo.’ How about you, Buff?”

“No. Sorry. No whoos or hoos here.” Buffy struggled to focus on the conversation, drained of energy. A headache roared up until even her eyes hurt.

“Shall I continue or would you prefer to rest, perhaps?” Giles, too, noticed Buffy’s condition.

 _Sweetie, you OK?_ Willow sent along their bond.

The reply was muffled, but rapid. _Tired, angry, you name it, but I really want to hear this before he goes back to Unhelpful Giles_.

“Please, Giles. I think we need to know.” Willow smiled slightly. “Buffy and I are on a new No Secrets Plan. Can we include you in that as well?”

The Watcher gave a wry chuckle. “Indeed, my dear. I will certainly look into it. I think it might be best for all of us.” Becoming more serious, he said, “When you first called me, Buffy, and I began looking into the prophecy, I did talk with Quentin. There was something in his manner. I began to believe he had already heard of the prophecy.”

“I’m not going to like this, am I?” Buffy’s voice was flat, resigned.

“I’d say that is rather unlikely, Buffy,” Giles said wearily. “I set some friends on the Watcher’s Diaries and other scholarly works. I, however, dug through Quentin’s files and the personal papers of several of his staunchest supporters. I found this.” He pulled a sheaf of documents from his jacket and handed them to Willow.

“Perhaps you could read later, my dears,” he said, forestalling Willow who had begun pulling the papers from their envelope. “What you need to know” he insisted, “is that the Council, or at least key members of it, knew of the prophecy and of Willow’s part in it. According to the memos and papers there, when the Council realized who Willow was, Travers went to the Council and pushed through a vote using his authority and vast amounts of ‘incentives.’” Voice rising, he growled, “The bloody ponce believed she needed to be isolated until the ‘proper’ Slayer was chosen and trained to bond with her.”

Huddling against Buffy, Willow numbly commented, “I gather that wasn’t Buffy.”

“Oh, no” Giles waved his hands in agitation. “Buffy evaded the usual detection as a Potential, so the Council judged her a renegade and assigned her to Merrick” His lips twisted. “The old boy’s job was to contain her, keep her out of the way until they could send someone of their choosing to the Hellmouth. However, Merrick died unexpectedly and the Hellmouth began preparing for the arrival of the Master.” He met Buffy’s eyes. “In essence, you were Called here before the Council had a chance to hand pick their Champion.”

Buffy pushed away from Willow. Striding up to Giles, she spit out bitterly, “What? I got here and they realized I was good enough to die for their cause, but not good enough for Willow?”

“I thought you were long past the stage of non-thinking dramatics,” Giles barked, not afraid of the angry Slayer in front of him.

The bond flooded with Buffy’s emotions, almost staggering Willow. Trying to keep the talk from becoming something more violent, the witch wrapped her arms around Buffy from behind. Chin resting on the Slayer’s tense shoulder, she said as calmly as possible, “So, Buffy wouldn’t play by the rules. The Council leaves her here to keep things under control until the ‘right’ girl can be found. Makes a creepy, Council-y type of sense.”  Willow kissed Buffy’s neck lightly. “I’m guessing Kendra was supposed to be it, but she died. What about Faith?”

Wrenching away from Willow, Buffy stared at her in horror. “Please, Will. I think your Smart Girl title’s in jeopardy. Faith was never good enough for you.”

“I’m afraid the Council agreed with you, Buffy,” Giles’ tired voice interrupted “Faith was a stop-gap. Her only purpose was to take up the fight after you were killed. Quentin and the Council still hadn’t found anyone they thought might make a good match for Willow.”

Willow wrapped her arms tightly around her stomach. “Giles, you’re kinda freaking me out with this whole topic.”

“I’m sure, my dear.” Giles smiled at her gently. “However, as you pointed out, the time for secrets is passed.”

“Then what?” Buffy demanded impatiently. “Faith goes all Psycho Slayer. I’m still holding the fort on the Hellmouth.”  She rubbed her forehead, trying to keep it from exploding at the pressure inside. “The Council throws us both out, but Will’s still with us. No new Slayers or Potentials on the scene. Did they just give up?”

Refusing to be rattled by Buffy’s urgency, Giles sighed. “I really don’t know, my dear. Quentin was becoming suspicious of my research. To perhaps hide what I had already discovered, I went back to work on the prophecy.” Eyes shadowed, he went on, “Before I had a chance to continue researching the Council’s actions, the First attacked.”


	24. Chapter 24

When Giles’ voice died away, Buffy closed her eyes. The answers had been even worse than she’d expected. Mixing with the sense of the surreal at Giles’ explanation was the pain still hammering through her head. She wanted to grab Willow and run, hide, do anything she could to keep her witch safe. That wasn’t an option. Using the headache as a shield, she pushed the pain into the link, keeping Willow from touching her mind or emotions. “I can’t say I’m happy about what the Council did to us, but it isn’t anything new or even unusual. If they were still around, I might go pay a visit.” Light stabbed her eyes and her stomach roiled when she forced them open. “But we have a new Big Bad on the horizon, and a horde of researchers waiting on us.”

Striding away, she ignored Giles open-mouthed look and the gentle touch Willow sent into their link. Inside, the living room looked the same. People and books strewn everywhere. “Jennifer, any news?” Buffy demanded.

“Well, let’s see,” the older version of Willow responded. “You were gone about an hour. What do you think?”

Refusing to back down, Buffy glared into the cool green eyes. “I think I’d like an answer to my question.”

“Buffy!” Willow grabbed her lover by the arm. “Let’s leave Mama to the books and go beat up on some punching bags or something.”

The pain was worsening. Buffy swallowed hard against a surge of nausea. “Sorry,” she mumbled. “Will, you stay here. They need you.” Buffy forced a grin. She just needed to get away from everyone, work out some frustration. “You’re the best with the book work. I’ll head out and see if Kirstan has anything for me to hit.” 

For a second, she feared Willow would refuse, but the redhead nodded reluctantly. “OK.” Green eyes searched Buffy’s face, not happy with her pallor and her dilated eyes. “But, you better not be planning anything stupid, you hear me?”

Despite her whirling head, Buffy’s sudden smile came from deep inside. “Nope. No stupid here,” she teased. “I’ve got this way powerful wife, and she’d kick my ass if I got out of line.”

Giggling, Willow kissed the Slayer gently before playfully pushing her away. “Damn. A wife? The good ones are always taken.” She winked at Buffy before turning away, grabbing a book from the research table.

Step a little lighter after her Willow-snuggles, Buffy headed back outside. The sun shone brightly and Buffy grimaced. _Damn, I guess Willow-kissage isn’t enough to heal everything_. Pushing open the door to the training facility, Buffy peered inside. “Anybody home?” she called out. No one answered. Shrugging, she moved inside, sliding the door closed behind her.

Deciding a houseful of mostly women was a safe environment, she stripped off her shirt. Her headache faded slightly as she loosened up. This was her world. Not the research center. Pushing down the flashbacks from the conversation with Giles, Buffy bounced in front of a practice dummy. Outlines on its chest indicated it was mostly used for staking practice, but Buffy was more in the mood for hands on combat. Lashing out, she rained blows on its padded form before interspersing kicks. Grunts and thuds were the only sounds in the large space until Buffy doubled over, panting. Sweat poured from her, dripping into her eyes.

“There are some towels on the bench over there.” Out of the corner of her eye, Buffy saw a hand wave to her left.

No longer focused on her workout, Buffy reeled from the stabbing pain in her head.

“Honey, are you alright? You look really pale,” the voice cooed.

Despite feeling very unsteady, Buffy spun around, ending in a fighting crouch.

“I know it’s been awhile, sweetie, but I haven’t changed that much, have I?” Joyce Summers smiled gently. “You’ve been out here a long time. Did you overdo it? Can I get you something? Some water? I could check inside and rustle up some lunch, too.”

“Mom?” Buffy’s voice sounded years younger. Tears mixed with the sweat on her face. “Oh my God. How did you…when did you get back?” She stepped forward, arms extended – and then recoiled. Her Slayer senses screamed. Joyce radiated an ancient, overwhelming evil. Backpedaling, she stared in horror at the _thing_ pretending to be Joyce and remembered Angel’s explanation of the First’s abilities. “You’re not real,” she mumbled.

Hazel eyes lighting with laughter, Joyce peered at Buffy. “OK. Is that slang for ‘you’re not _for_ real’, or…?”

“No!” Buffy continued backing away, stumbling over the scattered training tools. “You’re the First.”

Joyce frowned, moving after the fleeing Slayer. “Oh, baby, you’re so tired; you’re not making any sense. Maybe you should get some sleep.”

Now backed up against the wall, Buffy pressed against the surface shaking her head, shouting, pleading, Buffy shook her head. “No. Get away!”

“Buffy, I don’t know what’s wrong with you, but that’s enough.” Joyce crossed her arms and pursed her lips. Despite the sure knowledge deep inside that this was _not_ her mother returned from the grave, Buffy responded to the look of motherly disapproval and dropped her eyes. “Sweetie, what have you been doing to yourself? I mean, look at you.”

Now that she couldn’t see Joyce, it was so much easier to pretend. Joyce’s voice wrapped around her, and Buffy sobbed, remembering the good times: movie nights, a warm kiss on the forehead just as she fell asleep, the pride at her acceptance to Northwestern.

“Sweetie, let me get you something for your head. Have you been eating enough? You’ve lost so much weight.”

Buffy moaned at the stabbing pain in her head, and at the voice that continued to wash over her. She had to make it stop. She could feel the evil. She knew it wasn’t Joyce. Desperate for relief of some kind, she lunged across the mat, grabbing a stake from a low table. Focusing her pain and rage into the toss, she heaved the weapon toward her tormentor. The sharpened wood flew true, but passed through Joyce, sinking deeply into the wall of the barn.

Earrings jingling as she shook her head, Joyce looked at Buffy sadly. “I’m so disappointed in you, Buffy. I came back to help you and the others, but I don’t think I know you anymore.” She disappeared with no warning.

Buffy crumpled to the mat. Pounding head pressed to her knees, she rocked back and forth, sobs ripping from her throat.

***

Willow hauled her book into the heart of the living room and sat down on the floor, back resting against the couch. Dawn and Anya sat above her, both flipping through books of their own. “You guys finding anything?” she called up to the couch.

“Nothing,” Anya chirped, waving a thin manual. “And nothing. Cliff Notes to nothing.” The ex demon was really into her response.

Interrupting Anya before she could expand on the nothingness, Dawn muttered, “My research isn’t turning up anything either.”

Silence fell as the three went back to work. As she skimmed the spidery script in the Watcher’s Diary on her lap, part of Willow’s mind worked outside the box. They were quickly coming to the end of the more traditional research methods. What other ways could there be?

The answer, when it came, should not have been a surprise. “Dawnie, do you know if anyone called Angel after Giles got here?”

“Um…” Willow grinned. She could almost hear Dawn thinking about the question. “No,” the teen finally offered.

Scrambling to her feet, Willow shouted, “We’re idiots!”

The room froze.

“How did we miss this?” Willow asked the assembled crew.

“Maybe you could give us a little more information, and then we could tell you,” Jennifer responded dryly.

“Angel.” Willow flung her hands in the air. “We didn’t call Angel.”

“Gee, sis, can you just pick up the phone and dial Heaven?” Drew closed her book with a thud. “I thought prayer was the way to go.”

Dawn was giggling madly and even Anya cracked a smile, prompting more confused looks from the Hirsch clan.

Dropping her hands to her hips, Willow grinned at her family. “Well, _this_ Angel is more familiar with Hell than with Heaven, but he does have a phone.” She backed off a bit when Jennifer gave her a piercing glare. “Oookay. Moving right along, he’s not _an_ angel, he’s Angel, or Angelus.”

“You want to call Angelus, the most evil vampire in history?” Jennifer sounded horrified. “Do I even want you to explain how you know him?”

Dawn sucked in a deep breath and managed to choke out, “He was Buffy’s boyfriend.”

The Sunnydale crew howled at Jennifer’s mumbled, “My new daughter-in-law, the Slayer, was dating a vampire?”

Still laughing, Willow didn’t even bother to explain. “Drew, my laptop’s still upstairs. Get it for me, please?” Her sister was a little unhappy about the errand, but trotted for the door. “Mama, I’m going to set up a little video conference, and, I promise to explain everything.”

“See that you do, daughter mine.” Jennifer stood and stretched. “I don’t mind a little levity, but I need to be sure you aren’t putting us more at risk.”

Willow looked at her mother. “No, Jennifer. Angel’s a friend, and he faced the First once before. “

Drew came back into the room and stopped. “Hey, is everything OK?”

“Jennifer?” Willow asked.

Still appearing uncertain, the older witch nodded. “Fine, Drew. Willow can use the table here for her conference.”

Willow took the bag Drew held out and swiftly set up her equipment. “OK, guys, gather round. I’m going to call the AI office. Angel’s got a special set up there so we can actually see him on the screen. I’m thinking he may have some answers for us, or he can find them.” She typed rapidly for a second and the screen blanked.

A voice chirped out of the external speakers. “Angel Investigations. We help the helpless.”

“Cordy, hi. It’s Willow.”

“Oh, great. We haven’t had a paying customer in, like, a week. Every time the phone rings it’s one of you losers.” Despite the snap in the voice, Willow grinned.

“Same old Cordy. Good thing I’m using the new Willow 2.0, or I might just cry.” She listened to Cordelia’s laughter for a second. “Is Angel around? I’ve got some big, important questions to ask him. I’m set up on the vid, so can you have him log on?”

The former Prom Queen must have been on a portable handset because they heard doors opening and closing and the click of high-heeled shoes on stairs. “Angel, Willow’s on the line. She wants you to do a video conference.”

Another voice rumbled in the background.

“I don’t know, probably another apocalypse or something. They only ever call when they need our help,” Cordy answered an unheard question.

Seconds later, Willow’s computer screen flickered and Angel appeared. “Willow? Is something wrong? Is Buffy OK?”


	25. Chapter 25

“She’s fine, Angel,” Willow assured him. She smiled. Reaching along their link, she felt Buffy’s returning emotional stability and a lingering headache. “She’s beating her frustrations out at the moment.” Meeting the worried eyes on the screen, Willow flicked a hand at the bodies crowded behind her. “We’ve got some new Scoobies, but I’m going to save introductions for another time. There’s a new evil in town. You met it a few years ago.” 

“The First.” At Willow’s look of astonishment, the pale lips twitched into a smile. “I doubt there’s a vampire or demon anywhere that didn’t feel the ripple.”

Grinning ruefully, Willow nodded. “OK, that saves on part of the explanation. I don’t suppose you have something that tells how to kill it? Or just make it go away?” She ran a hand through her hair. “Or, even a Watcher’s Codex that mentions the First and a prophecy?” She met his eyes. “The Council is dead, Angel. We have a couple of books Giles managed to smuggle back from England and a whole lot of nothing else.”

More of Angel’s body came into view as he leaned back in the chair, fingers steepled in front of his face. “I know the basics, Willow. The First claims to be the very first and most powerful force for Dark the world has ever known. It can imitate the form of any dead or non-living being, but it won’t be solid.”

“Angel?” Dawn’s voice was high pitched and tight. “What did you mean, about the imitating thing?”

Frowning, Angel tried to explain to the pale teen. “The First doesn’t have a form of its own. It’s just massive amounts of energy.”

“Sort of like me? Only not so much with the green and glowy?” Dawn interrupted.

“Exactly. The monks, though, gave you a form when they created you. The First has to just pretend. It can look like anyone, as long as that person is dead.” He rubbed a hand over the back of his neck.  “It’s bad. Bad like you’ve never seen. It gets into your head, reads your fears and weaknesses, and then preys on them.” He looked earnestly out of the computer. “I was willing to walk into the sun just to get it to stop tormenting me with visions from my past. Has it shown itself to you?”

“Not yet,” Willow replied.

Biting her lip, Dawn disagreed. “Yes, it has.” She flushed then paled again at the attention she got. “At least, I think it did. Last night, something happened at the house. Wind, electrical problems.” She took a shuddering breath, tears spilling from her eyes. “And Mom was there. I mean, it looked like Mom, but maybe it was this First thing.”

“It’ll be OK, D.” No one had noticed Faith’s arrival, but the brunette Slayer wrapped her arms around the teen from behind, resting her cheek on Dawn’s right arm. “Fang. Looking good.”

Genuine warmth flickered in the vampire’s eyes. “Faith. Back in the fold, it seems. Did you see Mrs. Summers last night, too?”

“’Fraid not.” She pulled Dawn tighter against her, rocking slightly as the other girl started to calm down. “You got information on how to kill this thing?”

Angel shook his head. “I’ll have Wes and Fred start looking. You can’t kill it the normal ways because it doesn’t really have a form. Stakes, knives, magic…it just goes right through. If we find anything, are you at Buffy’s?”

Willow opened her mouth to answer, but grunted and grabbed her head instead.

“Sweetie?” Jennifer asked, moving forward.

“Buffy…” Willow stood, swaying, the Slayer’s utter despair flooding her mind. “Something’s wrong with Buffy.” She pushed through the throng of people and staggered for the door. Dimly, she heard Faith ask if she needed help, but she didn’t slow or answer. All her attention focused on the pain screaming through her link with Buffy. Willow pushed against the emotion, but it was so strong, it blocked her out. She couldn’t reach Buffy.

Dragging open the door, she plunged inside. “Buffy?”

Heart-rending sobs answered her.

Buffy huddled against the far wall, head pressed tightly to her knees. “Goddess, Buffy!” Dodging equipment, Willow knelt next to the Slayer, pulling her into her arms. “Sweetie, come on, talk to me. I can’t reach you right now. What’s got you so upset? Do I need to go kill Giles? Hmmm?” Gripping Buffy’s chin, Willow tried to get her to look up.

Instead, Buffy closed farther in on herself. Drawing her knees closer to her chest and wrapping her arms around them, she was the picture of abject misery.

Willow started when a hand fell to her shoulder. “Have you tried the bond?” Jennifer inquired.

“I can’t get through. She’s funneling a whole lot of pain and it’s blocking me.” Her voice broke and wavered. “I think she’s on the verge of a complete breakdown, Mama.”

“Link with me,” Jennifer ordered.

With a quick nod, Willow opened herself, reaching for Jennifer. _Show me the bond,_ her mother’s voice whispered in her head. Not bothering with questions, Willow pulled them deep inside, peering at the clogged channel that stretched between her and Buffy. _Damn. I could clear it, but it might do more harm than good right now._

 _Could I do it?_ Willow asked. Buffy’s emotions pounded through her. Her stomach roiled and her hands shook. There was so much flooding her mind and body, Willow wasn’t sure how both of them weren’t just coming apart from the overload. 

“No.” Jennifer slowly pulled away. “We need to get her someplace quiet, let her rest. Maybe then you can work through the bond.” Compassionate green eyes met Willow’s dilated ones. “Trust me?”

Throat tight around unshed tears, Willow simply nodded.

With a whispered thanks, Jennifer brushed her lips over Willow’s cheek and stood over Buffy. Willow watched the power ripple around her mother as she began to chant. The energy surrounded Buffy, and the Slayer’s shuddering sobs slowly eased. Finally they died off, and her arms dropped away from her upraised knees.

As Buffy dropped into spelled sleep, Willow relaxed a little. The emotion pouring through their bond didn’t stop, but it faded to a tolerable level. “Thanks, Mama.” Willow lowered Buffy to the floor and stood up. “Let me get Mom, and-“

“Will I do, Red?” Faith walked hesitantly forward. “I ain’t here to make trouble. I swear. Let me help, please.” Hands stuffed in her pockets, she waited.

Willow stared hard at the younger girl. Eyes narrowed, she noted the lack of Faith’s trademark smirk and the steady brown eyes regarding her. Letting out a slow breath, she nodded her acceptance of the offer. “Can you carry her? Otherwise, I’ll have Mom do it.”

“The tall brunette?” Faith asked

“Yeah.” Willow looked away for a second, glancing back at the still-sleeping Buffy, one hand gently caressing the tangled blonde hair.

“She’s trying to keep the Scoobies from flooding the place and getting info from Angel.” Taking a deep breath, Faith looked directly at Willow. “Anyway, B looks like she’s lost some weight, Red. No problem. Just point me in the right direction.”

Despite her lingering unease at Faith’s presence, Willow nodded. “Thank you. Mama, I’m going to have Faith take her to the guest house. I can shield it, and make sure she stays out for a while.”

Jennifer nodded. “I’d prefer Buffy stay at the house, so Drew and I could help you monitor her, but, with all of the research and activity going on, the guest house is the better choice for now.”

“Lead the way, then, Red.” Faith bent, slipping one arm under Buffy’s knees and the other around her back. With no apparent sign of effort, she picked up the older Slayer.

Willow moved quickly outside, skipping the path in favor of speed. “There’s a cabin Buffy and I were using.” She cast a worried look at her wife, compulsively monitoring her through their connection. “We’ll get her settled in and you can head back to keep the gang focused.”

Hurrying in Willow’s wake, Faith frowned, confused by the changes in the gang she remembered. Trying to fill in the gaps, she pressed for information. “Hey, Red? What the hell’s been going on up here? With you and B, I mean?”

“It’s a long story.” Willow bit her lip. “And, I don’t really want to get into too much detail without Buffy being awake.”

“Then, how about I tell you what I think is going on, and you can just nod or something if I’m on the right track.” Faith shifted Buffy in her arms, redistributing her slight weight. “You and B are together, and it’s done something to the Slayer part of her. That whole display with Junior earlier was big with the possessive.” She flicked a glance at Willow. “How’m I doing so far?”

“When did you get all Intuitive Gal?” she asked, voice rife with disbelief. Green eyes widened. “Ooops, sorry.” Blushing, Willow mumbled, “Pretty good.”

“Right.” Faith’s dimples flashed. “In other words, I’m dead on target.” She paused, letting Willow open the door to the guest house, and then following her inside.  “The bed?”

“Please.” Watching intently, Willow waited until Faith laid Buffy on the rumpled bed and stepped back. Quickly, Willow  removed Buffy’s shoes and loosened her clothes. “I’ll get the rest in a minute,” she commented, glaring at the brunette admiring the form in the bed.

With an unapologetic smile, Faith turned and trudged toward the door. “You got it, Red. Anything you want me to tell the gang? They’re gonna have questions.”

“Faith, wait.” Willow’s quiet command stopped Faith in her tracks.

Hunching her shoulders automatically, Faith spun to face the redhead. “Something you wanna say, Red?” she snipped out. Wary brown eyes skittered over Willow as she braced for whatever came next.

“Yeah, there is.” Willow didn’t give an inch. “I’m so not happy you are here.” She watched Faith flinch a little at that. “You’ve hurt and betrayed us all too many times, and I don’t trust you.”

“If you’re expecting me to go all Psycho Slayer, give it up.” Faith swallowed hard, heart pounding. _Fuck. All this redemption and apologizing crap sucks_. Still, she had to do it. She owed the Scoobies, especially these two, as much honesty as possible. “You shouldn’t trust me. I did a lot of stupid shit the last time I was in Sunnydale, and I ain’t expecting a big happy Scooby reunion. I’m here for one reason. Buffy asked me to come back.” Determined brown eyes met angry green ones. “Until B tells me to leave, I’m here to stay.”

“Fair enough.” Willow moved closer, hands clenched. “But I remember that knife you held to my throat and the times you tried to kill Buffy.” She tapped her reserves, letting the power flow through her. “If I suspect – for even one minute – that your loyalties are divided, there won’t even be ashes left.”

Faith jerked back. The green eyes she’d been staring into were solid blue. “What the fuck? Red?”

“I’m not so ineffectual these days, Faith.” A cold smile lifted her lips. “Just so we understand each other…” Without bothering to look away, Willow waved a slender hand and a grapefruit-sized fire ball appeared in the air between them.

Hands raised, Faith stepped back. “Got it, Red. I screw up again, you make me burn, no Hell involved. Nice to know where I stand.” She struggled to hold back her tears. “Can I go now? Or you got some other parlour trick you wanna show me?”

Grounding the energy, Willow sighed tiredly. “No more tricks, Faith. I’m not waiting for you to fail.” Seeing the blatant look of disbelief, she protested, “I’m not. But I did want to be clear on a few things.” She pulled a chair away from the table, still covered in the remains of last night’s dinner, and sat down. “Join me, please.”

Face pale beneath her tan, Faith sidled over and dropped into a chair across from Willow.

“Things have to change, Faith,” Willow started.

Impatient as always, the Slayer jumped in. “I got that, Red. Big ball of flame with my name on it.”

Willow held up a hand. “Wait. That’s not what I meant.” She took a deep breath, looking across the room at a sleeping Buffy. “She can’t take much more, Faith. I mean, look at her. She’s at the breaking point, and we… _I_ put her there.”

This time, when Willow’s voice trailed off, Faith stayed quiet.

“She hasn’t been the same since the resurrection spell, and I wasn’t there for her.” Pausing again, Willow searched for the right words. “I _am_ here now, and my primary job is to get her back to full health. I can’t keep her out of this fight. She wouldn’t let me, and we’ll need her.”

Sensing that Willow herself was very close to the edge, Faith sat forward. “What do you need me to do, Red?”


	26. Chapter 26

Willow didn’t immediately answer. Instead, she bought some time, covering her face with her hands.

“Red?” Faith tried again. “I know you’re tired and all, but you gotta help me out here.” Her voice was rough with strain. “We’ve got history, you and me, but I’m all about trying to make up for the past. Let me help.”

“Thanks.” Willow dropped her hands, leaning her forearms on the cluttered table. “I just don’t know where to start. This isn’t my role, you know?” Freckles stood out against her pale face. “I’m Research Girl. Buffy’s always been the one making the decisions.”

“Yeah, but B’s not up to that,” Faith pointed out almost gently. “Hell, you don’t look as bouncy as I remember. You need to curl up with your girl and get some sleep.” Pushing a little harder, she tried again. “Before I change my mind and remember that I don’t do charity, what do you need me to do?”

Giving in, Willow smiled tiredly. “Everything.”

It was a start. “You wanna add a few details there, Red?” Faith leaned back, watching the redhead intently. She rolled her neck, tying to loosen the muscles.

“Sorry.” Most of Willow’s attention was focused on the bed and the Slayer behind her. It was hard to explain the situation to Faith. All she wanted to do was work on clearing their link, get Buffy back to normal. Still, that wasn’t going to happen overnight. She had to be realistic. “Buffy’s out of the game for now.” The admission burned her throat, and Willow wiped at a tear. “That’s a problem. We’ve got a house full of Scoobies, a big evil already in town, and a horde of teenagers soon to arrive.” Willow forced herself to look away from Buffy. “I need you to fill in.”

Eyes wide, Faith shook her head slowly. “Fill in…like be in charge?” She stood up abruptly. “No way, Willow. The Scoobies would never go for that, and I don’t blame them.”

“Just a minute ago, you offered to help.” Willow’s voice rose. “Was that a joke? Or did you just mean you’d hang around and kill things? You said it yourself. Buffy’s not up to making decisions. Who did you think was going to replace her as the leader, Faith? Giles? He’s a great Watcher, but he’s useless in the field.” Willow brought her voice down with effort. “Xander? Anya?” She rattled off names without pause, knowing Faith would eventually get her point.

“What about your parents?” Faith wrapped her arms around her waist, pacing. “They seem to know what’s going on. I could, ya know, give technical advice or something, when they needed it.” She was almost pleading by the end.

Willow considered that. “It’s got merit.” She hesitated, biting her lip, before groaning. “This so sucks.”

“Like that’s new.” Faith dropped back down into the chair, legs bouncing up and down. “So, we’re good on the parents thing, right?” she asked hopefully.

“Wrong.” The red head dropped tiredly to the arms on the table. “Faith, lots of things have changed in the last week, and I don’t have time to tell you all of it. You _have_ to do this.”

Half afraid Willow might fry her, Faith slid a hand across the table, covering the slender fingers with her own. “Try the Reader’s Digest version, Red.” Clearing her throat nervously, Faith continued, “If you and B aren’t around to answer questions, I need at least the basics to get the gang through this alive.”

“Wow.” Willow dragged her head off the table and smiled wryly. “I didn’t think you’d put on the General’s helmet so fast.” She squeezed Faith’s hand when the Slayer started to pull away. “Don’t. I’m not mad; you’re right. I can’t ask you do go out there and be all with the rousing speeches and strategy sessions if you don’t know the facts.” Fiddling with a fork resting on the table, she worked to figure out where to start. “I don’t…”

Pushing aside her unease at the conversation, Faith tried to help. “Red, just start. If you forget something or whatever, at least I’ll have more info than I’ve got now.”

Nodding determinedly, Willow forged ahead. “Right. Just the highlights. I’m part of a prophecy, and the First is back because I cast the resurrection spell for Buffy.” Her voice quavered at the end, tears threatening. “When I pulled Buffy out of He-Heaven, I opened a door, and the First hid out in my head for awhile, pretty much recharging from my magical reservoirs.”

“It’s gone, now, right?” Faith asked, eyes narrowed and focused on Willow. “No way am I telling B that we had to stake her new girlfriend while she was napping.”

“No. The First is all gone. The fireball threat was all me.” She met the intent stare. “Unfortunately, we have less than nothing on the prophecy. The Council was destroyed before Giles-“ her voice thinned with stress, mentioning the older man. Clearing her throat, Willow tried again. “The Council was destroyed before Giles could track down anything else.”

The stuff about the prophecy wasn’t exactly riveting. Faith was more interested in Willow’s sudden loss of focus over Giles. Shooting for casual, she looked over Willow’s shoulder at a sleeping Buffy. “What’s up with the G-man, anyway? Ain’t never seen him so rumpled and shit, and he disappeared after your big talk.”

“Giles had some bad news for me and Buffy.” Willow’s voice was flat, discouraging questions.

The witch forgot, however, that Faith rarely responded to anything less than an outright threat. “What news?”

Squeezing her eyes shut, Willow fought to hold back the tears and the anger. Faith needed to know, and the younger girl was trying to do as Willow had asked. It wasn’t her fault the information was personally painful. “I’m going to say this only one time. All at once.” Her voice shook, and she sucked in a deep breath. “Don’t interrupt. Just listen.”

Sitting tensely in her chair, Faith responded to Willow’s stress. “Gotcha. I’m all ears, Red. Just take it easy, alright?” Not sure how to help, she clumsily tried to give the other girl a new focus. “You freaking out ain’t gonna help B.”

“One day soon,” Willow commented with a small smile, “we’re going to talk about the kinder, gentler Faith.” As quickly as it had appeared, the smile left, and Willow’s lips pressed tightly together before she began a rapid-fire delivery of information. “The Council has been lying to all of us from the beginning. There are Slayers and Potential Slayers all over the place. Kirstan, the brunette in the house, is a retired Slayer. Jennifer is a witch. They’re bonded. Married, because that’s what Slayers and Witches do. Buffy and I are married.”

Faith sucked in a breath, but bit back her response when Willow held up a hand.

“More about that another time. Like, after the First is history. My parents will be good resources, and can help with training the Potentials when they arrive. Don’t expect much help with the big stuff, though. I haven’t been here long, but I get the impression they never faced anything even close to what’s been through Sunnydale.” Finally running down, Willow rubbed her hands over her face. That hadn’t been so bad. A few more times, and it wouldn’t hurt at all. “Questions?”

A snort of laughter answered her query. “Fuck, yeah. Dozens.” Standing and wandering over to stand at the foot of the bed, Faith stared at Buffy for a minute. When she turned back to Willow, her face was set, determined. “G-man knows all the stuff about the prophecy and the Council?”

Not sure where the questions were leading, Willow nodded slowly. “Yes.”

“What about you and B? Who’s in the know on that? Do you want me to tell the Scoobies?” Faith shoved her hands in her pockets, rocking on her heels.

“My parents know about the bond.” Willow frowned. “And Giles,” the named ground out. She was still angry at the Watcher. “The Scoobies don’t need to know. Not yet. When Buffy’s on her feet, we’ll tell them.”

“They may already be wondering, Red.” Faith smirked. “Your little show with Junior was pretty eye-opening.”

Chuckling, Willow stood and walked to the bed. “She’s lucky it was just a show. Buffy was ready to tear her arms off.” Crossing her arms, she lightly touched their link. Her wife’s pain still blocked access. “Is there anything else, Faith?” she asked with an edge of impatience.

Faith had angled slightly, watching Willow study Buffy. “If something comes up, I’ll ask the old people for advice.” She needed to go. Fear held her back. Could she really do this? Hunching her shoulders, Faith took a step toward the door. “Take good care of her Red. B deserves some time off.”

***

The walk back to the house hadn’t helped with the fear. Faith stood in the hallway leading to the research room, wiping sweating palms on her jeans and fighting off nausea.

“Faith?”

She jerked around in surprise. “Damn it, D! Don’t sneak up on me like that.” The words came out harsh and angry. Panting from the adrenaline rush, Faith ran a hand through her hair, trying to calm down. She noticed how pale the teen looked and the tears hovering in her eyes. “Shit. I’m sorry.” Not thinking, wanting to help, Faith pulled the taller girl into her arms. “You caught me off guard. That’s never a good thing.”

A sniffle sounded, and then Dawn said tremulously, “I d-didn’t mean to do that. You just looked weird, standing there all stiff and stuff.” Another sniff. “Is Buffy OK? Jennifer didn’t tell us anything when she came back.”

“She’s asleep, D. Red’s gonna stay with her until she wakes up.” Faith pulled away, hands gently stroking Dawn’s arms. “I just needed a minute, ya know?”

Dawn giggled at that, poking Faith in the side. “Really? I thought you were always bragging about your wicked skills and stamina.”

Grabbing the poking finger and growling playfully, Faith smirked. “Yeah. Used to do that a lot. Couple a years in prison, though, kinda gives you a new way of looking at things.” She grinned, dimples showing. “Feeling better now. Let’s go on in. I’ve got some news for the gang.”

“Cool. Good news?” Dawn skipped along beside her.

“Maybe.” A little of Faith’s nervousness returned, and she drew in a deep breath. “It all depends on the Scoobies.”

Dawn tapped her on the back of the head. “Just do what Buffy does when she’s having one of her freak outs.”

“I don’t think I can raid the mall right now, D,” Faith commented dryly, rubbing the back of her head dramatically.

“Faith!” Dawn stamped her foot. “I’m serious. Buffy is so not good at pep talks, but she’s the one everybody expects to do them. When she knows it’s up to her to get everybody focused, she gets all,” she frowned, “I don’t know, cool and closed off. She doesn’t listen to what anyone has to say or act like she’s afraid. She just goes in and says ‘this is what we’re going to do,’ and we all nod and do it.”

Chuckling, Faith relaxed. It was nice to know Buffy wasn’t always as confident as she appeared. “Alright, D. Time for me to address the troops.” They moved down the hall, and, just before the crossed the threshold, Faith whispered, “Thanks, Dawnie.”

A beaming smile answered her.

“Hey, guys,” Faith called out to the bodies littering the room. “Got some stuff to pass on.”


	27. Chapter 27

Faith’s announcement energized the Scoobies slumped in the living room. Voices swarmed around her, all of them repeating the same phrase: “What’s wrong with Buffy?” Waving a hand to silence the din, Faith jumped up to sit on the large table at the front of the room. “B’s fine. Just tired. I guess comin’ back from the dead ain’t as easy as it looks. Red’s got it covered, though. She and B are in some cabin sleeping and meditating.” The words were smooth, firm. However, Faith waited, sure someone would see her nervousness or realize she was glossing over a lot of information.

To her surprise, though, no one questioned her comments. Placing her sweating palms flat on the table next to her, Faith took a slow, deep breath and surveyed her little army. Not much when you considered what they were up against. “The girls are going to be out of it for a while. B asked me to play messenger until she got back.” _Not exactly a lie…_ Faith thought.

“Really?” Anya piped in. “I thought Buffy hated you. And, if Buffy’s tired, why is Willow not here? Does Buffy need help sleeping?”

Sweat sprung out all over, and Faith fought the urge to wipe at the droplets dripping into her eyes. “Hey, Demon-girl, save it. If B wants to have a slumber party for two, I ain’t asking questions. I’m just glad Red didn’t fry me or something.”

Anya, of course, wasn’t content with that. “ _All_ I was saying is-“ Xander’s hand over her mouth stopped the flow of words.

“Sorry, Faith.” He grimaced in what Faith supposed was an attempt to smile. “Ignore her. Once she locks onto a topic, well, she’s kinda hard to get off.”

“No problem.” There was an uncomfortable silence, and Faith realized they were all waiting for her to say something. “So, um, I was catching some z’s when you were figuring stuff out. Wanna fill me in on where we stand?”

Tara smiled at her from the couch. “From a magic standpoint, we’ve got a good start. Jennifer and I have the beacon spell ready to go, and Willow’s sisters are reorganizing a couple of the outbuildings as barracks for the new Potentials.”

“Medical supplies are more difficult,” Jennifer joined in. “Kirstan’s got some contacts at a hospital in LA. Even if we can get what we need, transporting them means bringing in outsiders or sending some of us to pick them up.”

“What about Fang?” Faith grinned a little at the confused looks, some confidence replacing the nerves. “Is the AI gang coming to the rescue? ‘Cause they’re in LA. Couldn’t they grab the stuff you need and bring it along?”

Jennifer nodded, looking across the room at Kirstan. “That would work. We missed the last of that conversation, though. Are they joining us, sweetie?”

“In a few days. Angel and some ex-Watcher named Wesley are planning on driving out after they do some research on the First and what we might be facing.” Kirstan leaned against a bookcase, arms crossed. “You think they’d be willing to make a side trip?”

“In a heartbeat, if Fang had one,” Faith quipped. “D, can you give them a call? Make the arrangements?” She felt herself smile in response to the rapidly nodding head. “Cool. What’s next? Anything else we need to be doing?”

Xander waved a hand. “What about defenses?”

Feeling lost, Faith stared back. “Not sure I follow, X-man. What kind of defenses? I thought the witch team had all that under control.”

“If this First is as powerful as he claims, we’re going to need more than fireballs and a laser light show.” The voice was all Xander, but a soldier stared out of his eyes. “We need to figure out what we’re going to do…” He trailed off when Faith jumped down from the table and strode to the window. “Faith?”

“We’ve got company.” Faith was listening intently. “Fuck. They’re upstairs. Xan, grab some weapons and meet me up there.” She hit the door at a dead sprint, taking the stairs three at a time. Glass shattered as she reached the second floor landing. She followed the sound, taking out the closed door with one kick.

Kennedy struggled with a robed figure from her position on the bed. Faith leapt across the room and grabbed the intruder, throwing him into the wall. “You OK, Junior?” She glanced at Kennedy. No blood.

“Yeah.” The Potential’s arrogance was missing. The teen was pale, her eyes wide and shocked.

“Stay out of the way. I’ll handle this.” Faith moved toward the moaning figure. As she neared, it staggered upright, a pair of curved knives in its hands. “Nice blades. You think I could borrow them?” A snarl prefaced a slash with one of the knives. Faith twisted out of the way. “I’ll take that as a no.”

The room was a bad place for close-quarter combat. The space teemed with furniture, and Faith and her opponent had very little space for movement. Ducking and blocking as best she could, Faith worked to avoid the dual blades and maneuver the man into a corner. Finally, the robed figure lunged. Trying to lean back, Faith’s foot caught on the edge of a dresser. She hit the floor hard and lay there, gasping.

Before Faith could scramble to her feet, a fireball streaked across the room. It hit the robed attacker in the chest. Animalistic screams filled the small room as flames engulfed the knife-wielding creature. Scooting away from the fire, Faith looked over her shoulder.  Dawn stood in the doorway, shaking her hand, staring at it in confusion.

“D, you OK?” Faith asked, suddenly concerned. “You get hurt or something?”

“No.” Dawn’s voice was bemused. “I didn’t know I could do that. You know, the fireball thingy.”

Gaze bouncing between the younger Summers and the now-smoldering corpse, Faith choked out, “You did that? Once this apocalypse is over and you all remember the shit I did, I am so fucked.”

***

As soon as Faith left the guest house, Willow reset the warding. They were protected, for now, from the outside world. Stretching tensed muscles, she wasted a few minutes cleaning up the dinner refuse still on the table. Buffy hadn’t moved. The Slayer’s chest rose and fell in a peaceful rhythm. Willow tested the link. Blocked. Maybe it was time for a little rest of her own. Quickly stripping off Buffy’s jeans, Willow pulled off her own pants and shirt before crawling into the big bed and snuggling next to her friend and lover. Buffy’s warmth soaked through her, and Willow’s eyes drooped closed. Tomorrow would be soon enough to worry about what had sent Buffy over the edge. For now, they both needed sleep…

… _”Could I have onion rings with that, instead of fries?” Jesse asked._

_Adjusting her bright orange cow and chicken hat, Willow smiled brightly. “Sure. Anything else?”_

_“Nah. That’ll do it.” Jesse peered behind the counter. “Buffy working today?”_

_“She’s in the back helping unload the truck.” Willow double checked her register display. “That’s one Doublemeat Medley with onion rings and a large diet coke, right?” Mrs. Summers nodded. “OK. Give me just a second and I’ll have that ready for you.”_

_Turning away from the counter, Willow frowned. There were an awful lot of people working today. Kennedy and Morgan were at the grill. It looked like they were trying to feed an army. Chicken and meat patties filled the cooking surfaces in neat rows, and stacks of paper serving boats stood waiting. Shrugging, she snagged one of the completed sandwiches and stuck it on a tray. Someone had already started filling the drink order. Eyes widening in horror, Willow watched the liquid overflow the cup, streaming down the stainless steel dispenser onto the floor._

_She’d have to clean the floor – after filling the order. Willow removed the cup, replacing it with a clean, empty one. Making sure to press the button for a large drink, she hurried over to the fry counter and filled one of the cardboard containers. As she returned to the counter, she stopped. “What the…?” The diet coke was overflowing this cup, too. Growling under her breath, Willow punched the button to stop the dispenser. Nothing happened. Great. Just great. Diet coke continued to pour out, soaking Willow’s uniform and shoes._

_“Ooops! Sorry, Will. I should have warned you about that puddle.” Buffy grimaced, staring at Willow’s soaked and mud-spattered boots. “Restfield isn’t that great with the drainage. Maybe they’ll come clean in the wash?” she added hopefully._

_Rolling her eyes, Willow glared at her friend. “Buff, I know you don’t do much with the laundry, but leather and spin cycle so don’t go together.” She took a squelching step forward. Yuck. It was going to be a very long patrol. “Don’t worry about it. My parents are all with the guilt these days. I guess they finally realized they missed graduation. They’ve showered me in gifts and cash since getting back. I’ll just hit the mall after class tomorrow and pick up a new pair.”_

_“The mall?” Buffy’s eyes gleamed through the darkness. “Would you like a little company? I give good fashion advice.”_

_“It’s a pair of shoes, Buffy. Even I can get those without help.” She grinned at the dramatic pout the Slayer threw her way. “Well, I guess you can go with me. After all, maybe there will be some clothes calling my name, and, hey, I can certainly use your help with that.” Willow giggled at Buffy’s blinding smile. “You are so easy.”_

_Buffy didn’t respond, stiffening in place. “Hold that thought.” She sprinted away, stake in hand._

_Willow hurried after her, following the sound of Buffy’s voice and pained grunts and curses. By the time she ran around the back of the Aaronson mausoleum, Buffy was alone. She stood with her back to Willow, examining a large, double-bladed scythe. “I don’t remember you stuffing that in your pocket before we left the dorms.”_

_“Gee, Will, pay more attention next time.” Buffy grinned faintly. “It’s nice, isn’t it? One of the vamps had it, and he was kind enough to drop it before he went poof.” Buffy swung it a few times, and the blades hummed as they cut through the air. “Giles will want to take a look at it in the morning. It’s got some kind of writing on the handle.”_

_“Can I take a look?” Willow bounced on her toes then stopped as water squished out of her boots. Buffy offered the weapon, smirking only slightly when the blade thunked to the ground. “Thanks. Just so you know, you’re batting a zero on the best friend scale tonight.” Kneeling, she peered at the runes carved into the haft. “Damn. I don’t recognize them.”_

_Hands stuffed in her jacket pockets, Buffy whispered, “What’s he doing?”_

_“Who?” Willow whispered back._

_“The guy in the colored clothes. Why’s he standing with his back to us?”_

_Rolling her eyes at Buffy’s ignorance, Willow leaned closer to her friend, trying to ignore the death glares from the other people seated nearby. “He’s praying. ‘To Thee, O God, my God, I will give praise upon the harp.’”_

_Pulling back, Buffy stared at Willow in confusion. “The harp? Does anybody still play those?” She raised both hands in a sign of surrender when Willow pasted on her Resolve Face. “Sorry, I just don’t get it. I mean, what’s going on now?”_

_It was too much to hope Buffy would just sit and listen. “He’s kinda getting ready to confess his sins.” Willow pointed to the robed priest, who was now tapping his chest with a closed fist._

_“Why can’t he do that in English?” The Slayer slouched back in the pew, scowling. “This is boring. Let’s go.” She grabbed Willow’s hand and stood. Mumbling apologies, they squeezed by the people in the pew and hurried down the side aisle for the door. With the priest’s voice thundering after them, they stepped outside into the bright sunlight…_

…Willow’s eyes snapped open. “What the…? Buffy?” Dazed hazel eyes blinked at her. “Wow. I just had the strangest dream.”

“That makes two of us. Welcome to the hell that is my life, Will. That wasn’t any dream.” Buffy smiled bitterly. “That was a Slayer dream.”


	28. Chapter 28

“We had a Slayer dream telling me I shouldn’t work at the DMP?” Willow asked in confusion.

Sleep-dazed hazel eyes blinked at her for a minute before Buffy burst into laughter. “Um, I’m going out on a limb here, but no. I don’t think the dream had anything to do with your future as a Food Services worker, Wills.” Her somber mood broken by Willow’s question, Buffy went on. “How did I get back here? The last thing I remember is seeing Mom in the Training Barn.”

Willow’s eyes shot open. “Your mom?”

“Yeah.” Buffy’s levity faded. “Mom. She showed up when I finished my workout.” Tears welled and overflowed. “God, I knew it wasn’t her. She felt…she felt evil. My Slayer senses were freaking out. It didn’t matter, though. I _wanted_ it to be her, Will. I just wanted Mom back.”

Their positions didn’t do much for cuddling. Willow rolled over, pulling Buffy nearly on top of her. “Shh, sweetie. Come on. You need to calm down.” Their link swelled with the Slayer’s grief and despair. Willow blinked away tears of her own, head and heart pounding from the emotions battering her.

Exhaustion finally slowed the tears. Buffy’s eyes drooped closed, her sobs tapering off. “She was disappointed in me, Will. I tried so hard. I know I wasn’t the daughter Mom wanted. Why didn’t she understand that?”

Willow stared up at Buffy’s closed lids and tear-streaked face. “Buffy, your mom _did_ understand about the Slaying. That thing you talked to earlier wasn’t Mrs. Summers, no matter how perfect the illusion. You have to believe me, sweetie. That was so not your mom.”

Buffy wasn’t ready to hear that. “I know that. I do, Will.” Buffy’s voice wavered. “That doesn’t mean it didn’t have a point. How many times over the years did I not do what Mom wanted, though? Getting kicked out of Hemery, not going to Northwestern,-“

Jumping in before Buffy could go through the entire laundry list of imagined failures, Willow cupped the blonde’s face in her hands, thumbs feathering over her cheeks.  “Stop.” Buffy struggled under her. “Buffy, stop.” Willow kept her voice soft yet urgent. She waited until Buffy grew still. “I know you guys had problems when you first moved to Sunnydale. After you finally told her about the Slaying, did your mom ever say she was disappointed? Even once?”

“She wanted-“ Buffy began.

“That wasn’t what I asked.” Willow refused to let her wife avoid the question. “Did she say she was disappointed?”

The muscles under Willow’s hands bunched and flexed.

“Buffy!” Willow snapped in exasperation.

“No.” The single word emerged in an explosive breath. “No, she never said it once she found out about the Slaying.” New tears leaked from beneath Buffy’s eyelids.

Using her thumbs, Willow gently brushed the moisture away. “Of course, she didn’t, Buffy. Your mom loved you.” Shifting so she lay pressed against Buffy’s left side, Willow tried to keep her wife talking. “What happened earlier, sweetie? You weren’t really yourself after we talked to Giles.”

Buffy merely shrugged, avoiding eye contact.

“You can talk now, or you can talk later,” Willow allowed, her voice firm. “Just remember I’m not going away, and you aren’t going to avoid this conversation.” Giving in to the hurt and betrayal their blocked link caused, she continued in a louder voice, “Why won’t you tell me what’s wrong? Or, if you can’t talk about it, why won’t you open the link? Let me feel what’s bothering you?”

“Will,” Buffy started, responding immediately to the sound of repressed tears in Willow’s voice, “there’s nothing wrong.”

“I’m supposed to believe that?” The question was shrill. “Buffy, you’ve told me absolutely everything about your life almost from the minute we met. Goddess, I knew more about you and Angel than I was ever comfortable with. We’ve shared so much while we were ‘just’ friends. Why is it so hard to talk to me now?” She paused, green eyes wide and tear filled. “Are you sorry?” Willow’s voice shook. “About the bond?

Silence stretched.

Stifling a sob, Willow rolled away and climbed out of bed. She hurriedly donned her clothes, shivering in the large room. It was so cold. Even fully clothed Willow couldn’t get warm. She hadn’t gotten more than a few steps toward the table when strong arms wrapped around her from behind.

Holding herself stiffly, Willow fought to hide the sobs wanting to tear from her throat. “I’m so sorry, Will.” Hot liquid soaked through the back of Willow’s shirt where Buffy’s face pressed.

“Me, too.” It was all the redhead could manage.

“No,” Buffy disagreed, “you don’t understand.”

Despite her best efforts, a sob slipped out. Willow slapped a hand over her mouth, hoping to contain the rest.

“Oh God, what have I done?” Buffy’s hoarse whisper barely registered through Willow’s grief. The Slayer moved away, gently turning Willow to face her.

Willow bit her lip at Buffy’s pale, drawn appearance. Rather than looking rested from her magic-induced nap, the Slayer looked worse. Her eyes were dull, the pupils completely dilated. The hands gripping her shoulders trembled. “Buffy,” Willow couldn’t help saying, “maybe you should sit down.”

“In a minute,” Buffy responded flatly. “Will, we need to talk.”

All of Willow’s hard won control shattered. “Really?” The word was loaded with sarcasm. “I thought you’d decided I wasn’t worth talking to.”

Buffy pale face flushed brightly. “No, Will, that’s so not it. I don’t…I don’t know how or where to even start.” She stared pleading at Willow.

Feeling incredibly tired from the emotional roller coaster of the last few days, Willow dropped her head. “Alright, Buffy. Do I need to play Twenty Questions? Can you give me an idea? Point me in the right direction?”

“I can’t do this anymore,” Buffy mumbled.

The world wavered. Willow felt hot and cold at the same time; a shrill ringing sang in her head.  Afraid of the answer, Willow barely managed to whisper through numb lips, “Do what, Buffy?”

“This.” Buffy waved her hand around the room. “Be _The_ Slayer; save the world again, all with a cheery smile and rousing speeches.”

For the first time since waking, Willow smiled. Relief made her almost giddy. This she could handle. As long as Buffy wasn’t saying she wanted out of their marriage…”Buffy, if you’d said that last week, we would have had problems. Now, though, we have options.” When the blonde regarded her quizzically, Willow grabbed her in a tight hug. “Faith’s back and willing to help, there are who knows how many Potential Slayers who will be joining us. There’s no reason for you to do this alone. Goddess, you may not have to do it at all. Mom retired. Why couldn’t you?”

***

“I’ve already forgiven you, Faith.” Dawn smiled at the shell shocked Slayer. “And if Willow and Buffy want to get rough, I’ll protect you.”

Faith smirked at that. “Thanks, D. Never had anybody want to take care of me. Anything else on offer with that?”

“Please. Get a room, will you?” They’d forgotten about Kennedy, huddled on the bed. The Potential glared at them. She pointed to the burned corpse. “And take that with you.”

“Damn, D. You got me so riled up, I forgot all about Mr. Crispy.” Faith winked teasingly at Dawn. “Too bad Junior here had to break things up. I was getting all set to show you my skills.”

Dawn giggled.

“Hey, what’s so funny? I could definitely use some of that.” Xander poked his head into the room. Blood stained his shirt and pants.

“Whoa, Xan, you OK?” Faith straightened, all joking gone.

He nodded. “There was another one in Amanda’s room. Kirstan and I took care of him. Things got a little messy.” He eyed the corpse on the floor. “You carry a blowtorch in your pocket?”

“Yeah, it makes lighting up so much easier.” Faith grinned and then grew serious. “You sure you’re alright?”

“I’m good. Kirstan did most of the work. I just ran in and finished the job once he was down. It’s his blood.” Xander looked away. “They’re human. I wasn’t…”

Faith swallowed hard, going very pale. “Fuck. I didn’t realize with the fire and all.”  She glared at the form on the floor. “We may need a new game plan. Kirstan still next door?”

Xander nodded. “I think so.”

“Alright. Let’s get the trash taken out.” Faith nudged the body in front of her. “I think we need to move up our timetable and stop doing so much talking. The First’s on the move, and it looks like we’re targets.” She glanced at Kennedy. “Get dressed, Junior. Round up the other two Potentials. Nap time’s over.”

“Who said you were in charge?” Kennedy sprang out of bed, stepping into Faith’s personal space.

A cold smile stretched across the Slayer’s face. “Step back, kid, or I’m going to put you through the wall. This ain’t the time.” Ignoring the sputtering from the Potential, Faith bent and slung the charred remains over her shoulder. “D, find Giles. I don’t care if he’s hiding out drinking tea or whatever. We need him to hit the books and find out what these things are.”

Not bothering to see if the two girls followed orders, Faith carried her grisly cargo out the door and down the stairs. People huddled in the narrow hallway at the landing. “I’ve got a place out by the Training Barn.” Jennifer stepped away from the others and motioned for Faith to follow her. “Do you need a hand with that?”

“I’ve got it. Can you walk me out, though?” Faith looked at the older woman, hoping to convey her need to talk without having to come out and say it.

She received a narrow-eyed glance and a nod. “Sure. Let’s get that thing out of the house before the smell sets in too much.” Jennifer looked at the group still standing in the hallway. “Get the living room ready, guys. Food and drinks all around.” No one moved and a slim eyebrow shot up. “Now!” Bodies scurried for the kitchen. “Goddess save me from curious kids.”

Faith shifted her burden and followed the complaining Jennifer outside. Squinting against the bright sunlight, she took a deep breath and got started. “I’m thinking the group planning on going to Sunnydale is staying put.”

Green eyes watched her intently. Jennifer tilted her head, considering Faith’s comment. “That’s not a bad plan.” She crossed her arms over her chest, quietly continuing, “I’m wondering, though, why you seem nervous all of a sudden?”

“What did B and Red tell you about me?” Faith asked, working her way toward answering the question.

“Nothing.” They reached the Barn, bypassing the entrance and continuing on the path around the rear of the building. “Dump the body here. I’ll have Kirstan or one of the girls start a pyre later.”

Grimacing at the thought, Faith shifted the corpse from her shoulders, leaving it lying on the ground in a pile with the blood-stained body of its companion and some other trash. She stared at the two bodies for a long minute, arms wrapped over her stomach. More bodies. There was no way around it if the First sent more of these to the ranch.

Jennifer let her stand in silence. Once Faith turned away from the body, though, the redhead stated, “You never answered my question.”

“I’m getting there,” Faith responded moodily. She started down the path in the opposite direction of the house. “You and your girl don’t have a clue about anything.”

“Kirstan’s a Slayer. We know plenty.” Faith smirked at the bite in Jennifer’s voice.

Faith stopped, leaning against a split rail fence blocking access to a pasture. “You don’t know anything. B and her crew, they’ve already faced things you haven’t even met in your nightmares.” Her voice was harsh as she continued, “I’m one of those things.”

She saw Jennifer’s eyes widen.

“We ain’t got time for me to spill the whole freaking story. Take my word for it, you’d be better off if I could head back to town.” Faith half-turned, locking her eyes with Jennifer’s green ones. “We can’t afford to split the crew. You and T need to get the beacon spell going now.”

“We’re all set for the spell,” Jennifer said. “I’m still waiting to hear why I should be so afraid to have you here.”

Faith clenched her fists, sweat slicking her skin and her shoulders stiffening. “My last address was the California Institution for Women.”


	29. Chapter 29

“OK,” Jennifer responded, green eyes wide, “I wasn’t expecting that.” She moved next to Faith, leaning against the fence. “Why?”

The moment of truth. Faith kept her eyes on her hands, gripping the wooden rail so hard she splintered the rough post. Bile burned her throat and stomach. Could she really tell this woman about her past?

“Faith?” She flinched at the hardness in Jennifer’s voice. It was as if Willow’s mother sensed the danger Faith represented.

“Murder One and assault,” Faith blurted, adrenaline coursed through her and all her muscles tensed against the need to run.

A moment passed. Then another. Birdcalls and wind rustling through the trees were the only response.

Finally, Jennifer pushed away from the fence. “Murder?” Although her face was carefully blank, her voice shook slightly. “That’s…It was a mistake, right? Why didn’t your Watcher and the Council help out?”

“It wasn’t a mistake,” Faith ground out. “My Watcher,” her lips twisted bitterly, “and the Tweeds in England tried to kill me.” There, it was all out. The whole truth, if not the whole story.

Unfortunately, the information seemed to be too much for Jennifer to handle. She took a quick step away before hurrying toward the house.

Faith maintained her stance when Jennifer walked away. Her vision blurred, and moisture dripped onto the backs of her hands. Redemption so sucked. Sobs choked her, and Faith struggled to breathe around the pressure in her throat.

Rapid footfalls sounded from behind. Sniffing and dragging a hand across her eyes, Faith straightened. “Giles and everyone-“ Dawn’s voice started and then stopped abruptly.

Not turning, Faith replied, “Spit it out, D. The gang’s doing what?” Her voice was huskier than usual.

It wasn’t going to be that simple. Dawn ignored the conversational nudge. “Faith, are you alright?” Faith heard her take a few more steps, could almost feel the younger girl behind her.

“Five by five, D.” She congratulated herself on the firm tone until Dawn snorted. Head dropping tiredly, Faith rubbed her eyes. “Let it go, Dawn,” she pleaded. “Just…let it go.”

“Only because we don’t have time for me to kick your ass.” Dawn sounded mad.

“Wow, D.” A flicker of amusement helped Faith shove the pain deep inside. Spinning, she forced a grin. “”What would B say if she heard you talk like that?”

Blue eyes glared at her. “Like Buffy has any room to talk.”

Striding forward, Faith looped an arm around Dawn’s shoulders. “See, that ain’t gonna work. I’m supposed to be taking care of things while the girls rest up. I’m sure Big Sister’s going to want a report on things.” She grunted when a sharp elbow poked her side. “Damn, D, what was that for?”

“For treating me like everyone else,” Dawn snapped as she tried to pull away; Faith didn’t let go. “I’m _not_ a little kid anymore. I mean,” the taller girl rushed to explain, “Buffy had been a Slayer for three years when she was my age.”

Faith absorbed that statement in silence for a minute. “Yeah, she was.” Faith sighed, dropping her arm from around Dawn’s shoulders, letting it rest around her waist, instead. “I think we all kinda forget that.”

“Why?” Faith bit back a grin. Damned if Dawn didn’t sound like a three-year old with that question.

“Can’t speak for the rest of the gang, D.” Faith stumbled to the side when Dawn shoved her. “Give me a minute, damn it. I was trying to explain.” Leaning her head on Dawn’s shoulder, she hunted for the right words. “I guess, for me, you’re like…the way I want things to be. You know, happy and innocent. Not all fucked up.”

She could feel Dawn’s stare. “Like you?” Faith swallowed hard at Dawn’s quiet question.

“It doesn’t get much worse than me, Dawnie.” Tears threatened again. Cursing her sudden lack of emotional control, Faith gritted her teeth. She needed to be strong. Buffy and Willow were counting on her to keep the Scoobies on the right track. Breathing deeply and blinking rapidly, Faith refused to cry.

“Oh, yeah. The big, bad Dark Slayer,” Dawn mocked. She gripped Faith’s fingers where they rested against her hip, not letting her pull away. “I remember it all, Faith. Well,” she backtracked, “I remember what the monks put in my memories. You aren’t that person anymore.”

They were at the back door to the house now. Faith stopped walking and turned to face Dawn. “D-” Her voice squeaked on the word and she had to clear her throat before continuing. “It means a lot, you thinking that. You gotta know, though, it doesn’t work that way. Me and Fang talked a lot while I was in prison. Whatever I do now, it don’t change what I did in the past.” She met Dawn’s eyes resolutely, not hiding anything.

A slight flush colored Dawn’s cheeks. “I understand that, Faith.” Smiling, Dawn threw her arms around Faith, hugging her tightly. “I just want you to know, I know you’ve changed.”

Dawn’s words and her hug warmed Faith deep inside. Teetering on the edge of laughter and tears, she returned the embrace, face buried against Dawn’s shoulder. “God, D,” she whispered raggedly, “you have no idea what that means to me.” The earlier tears returned, refusing to be held off again. They soaked Dawn’s shirt.

“The rest of the gang will figure it out.” Dawn stroked Faith’s back, not pulling away. “I’m just smarter than they are about certain things.”

Faith laughed through her tears and pain at Dawn’s self-satisfied tone and leaned back. Peering up into Dawn’s eyes, she felt more at peace, more confident than ever before. “Thanks, Dawn.” Faith raised a shaking hand, softly stroking the younger girl’s face. She took a deep breath, amazed at how much better she felt.  Dawn’s eyes darkened, and Faith’s palm tingled. For a minute, Faith was sure she felt…something, a whisper in her mind, a warmth surrounding her heart. She blinked, realizing she was up on her toes, lips nearly brushing Dawn’s.

“Faith?” Dawn’s voice was soft and deeper than normal. Faith could feel the other girl’s heart pounding against her.

“We…” she started before losing her train of thought. There was something she needed to do. What was it? Faith leaned in closer, mesmerized, when Dawn licked her lips.

***

“Retire?” Buffy looked at Willow, hazel eyes wide. “Can I retire? I mean, I know you said Kirstan did. Giles never said anything about being able to just quit. It was always ‘duty…blah, blah, blah…kill demons and save the world….blah, blah, blah…die an early death.”

Willow dropped her arms and moved to sit on the end of the bed. Tucking her legs underneath her Indian style, she said, “I don’t see why you can’t, Buffy. With Faith out of prison and back on the right side, you have more options.”

Almost giddy at the thought of _not_ being solely responsible for saving the world, Buffy grinned. “Let’s plan on it, then. We can travel even more than your parents.” An awkward silence fell. “Well, um, the Rosenbergs. We can visit more countries than the Rosenbergs.”

Giggling at Buffy’s excitement, Willow held out a hand. “Come here, silly.”

“Hey, who’re you calling silly, Hirsch?” Mock scowling, Buffy stalked toward her wife. “I’ll have you know, I am perfectly serious.” She ruined the image by diving at Willow, pinning her to the bed, and tickling her. “See? Look at how serious I am.” Cheating slightly and using Slayer speed, Buffy out-maneuvered Willow’s squirming and writhing. “Perfectly serious, that’s me.”

“Buffy!” Willow gasped, flushed and breathless. She batted at the fingers seeking out –and finding – all of her most sensitive spots. “Please!”

Stilling her fingers, Buffy sat back on her heels and watched Willow hiccup and shudder on her way back to normal. “Thank you,” she said softly.

A warm hand cupped her face. “For what, baby?”

Avoiding the question, Buffy turned her head and kissed Willow’s palm.

“Buffy?” Willow tried to sit up. “What’s going on in your head right now?”  The mood had shifted again. Buffy hunched forward, hands rubbing restlessly on her thighs.

“I…”Buffy finally met her gaze. “I’m sorry for blocking the link. I knew you were trying to help. Something kept telling me to keep you out.” Tears gleamed on her cheeks, and her voice dropped to a whisper. “You’re my best friend, Wills. Before anything else we are to each other, you’re my friend. Why can’t I talk to you? What’s so wrong with me that I run and hide every time something goes wrong?”

Willow bit her lip. She’d wondered the same thing as she’d battered against the blocked link. “Buffy, I can’t answer that.” Buffy flinched, dropping her head, and Willow reached out to tilt the narrow chin back up. “Let me finish before you go all Depresso Gal again, OK?”

“OK.” Buffy sniffed and scrubbed at her eyes.

Starting slowly, giving herself time to find the words, Willow continued, “If this were the first time, Buffy, I might think you didn’t want us to be together.” She grimaced ruefully. “Goddess, I _did_ think that earlier, when you said you didn’t want to do this anymore. I should have known better.

“From the minute we met at Sunnydale High, you’ve always pulled away when things got tough.” Lost in memory, Willow’s voice softened, and she smiled whimsically. “I used to admire that, you know. Me, I just get all flustery and babble.”

It was too much for Buffy. “No! Willow, you-“

A single finger pressed against her lips. “Listen, would ya’?”

“Don’t wanna,” Buffy pouted. “I don’t want to hear how you’re so pathetic, and I’m so perfect.”

Willow blushed. She hadn’t been planning to say that…had she?

“Remember, Wills, best friends. I know you better than anyone else on the planet.” She leaned down, kissing Willow softly. “Let’s make a deal. You don’t beat up on yourself, and I won’t duck and cover when I get scared.”

Wrinkling her nose, Willow looked into Buffy’s eyes. Buffy made no attempt to look away, and Willow slowly nodded. “What did you have in mind to seal the deal?”


	30. Chapter 30

Buffy smiled, mischief warming her eyes. “Well, I could tickle you some more.” Her fingers darted out, brushing Willow’s sides. The witch shrieked. Light flared throughout the room, and Buffy suddenly found herself held to the bed by unseen hands. “Or,” she said in a shaky voice, “I could just lay here and hope you don’t have revenge on your mind.”

“There will be no tickling,” Willow declared in a firm voice. She perched lightly on Buffy’s stomach. “None.”

Nodding, Buffy agreed wholeheartedly. “Got it. No tickling the witch.” She grinned. Willow was just too cute. She wasn’t _quite_ wearing Resolve Face; it was a near miss, though.

“I knew you’d see it my way.” Bending down, Willow brushed Buffy’s lips with her own.

When Willow pulled away, Buffy tried to follow and keep contact. She was still fused to the bed. “Will,” she whined, “what’s with not letting me up?” Buffy eyed Willow’s smirk, nerves and desire twisting her stomach. “You wouldn’t?”

Willow’s smirk grew.

“No way. I don’t believe it!” Buffy was confident. Willow was not going to keep her magically tied to the bed. Her wife couldn’t even say the word sex without blushing. Kink of any kind was beyond her.

Expecting a verbal response, Buffy flinched when a warm tongue traced a path from her chin to the top of her right breast. Eyes wide, she finally realized Willow wasn’t going to back down. The tongue was back. It reversed the earlier path on the left side. Teeth nipped at her throat.

“Want to make a bet on what happens next?” Willow whispered teasingly.

***

Faith felt Dawn’s breath puff against her face. The other girl’s lips trembled slightly. Pressure built inside. Dimly, Faith realized she was about to kiss Dawn. She hesitated. Her body screamed its frustration. What was the problem?

“Faith?” the question was a mere whisper of sound.

Faith leaned in again. Her lips brushed Dawn’s lightly, once, twice. Her hands reached out, pulling Dawn closer. Everywhere they touched, Faith burned. She struggled to breathe. Her heart thundered in her chest, and adrenaline surged “Dawn-“ she growled.

As soon as she said the name, her actions registered somewhere other than her body.

Faith’s eyes shot wide and she staggered several steps away. “Fuck. Oh, fuck.” She held her hands out. Faith noticed they were shaking.  Now, though, it was fueled by fear, rather than desire.

“Faith?” Dawn followed her, reaching out. “What’s wrong?” Dawn’s confusion and hurt pulled at Faith.

“Damn it, D! I kissed you.” Faith felt dizzy, lightheaded. She shook her head, trying to clear out the lingering fuzziness.

She saw Dawn frown, and the younger blinked dazedly. “I…Yeah. You did. Is…is there something wrong with that?”

Heat snaked through Faith. She could feel goosebumps erupt all over her body. Wrong? Faith’s mind and body disagreed. Closing her eyes, Faith took several deep breaths. Her body was going to get her killed.

“Faith?” Dawn had moved closer. Faith stiffened and opened her eyes. Pale, blue eyes dark and huge, Dawn stood only inches away. “Please. Please, tell me what I did wrong.”

“You didn’t,” Faith said urgently. “ _I_ did. I kissed you.” _I just kissed Buffy’s little sister._  The phrase kept repeating in her mind: _Buffy’s little sister, Buffy’s little sister_. “Do you have any idea what B would do to me if she found out?” She had to get Dawn to understand.

Dawn obviously _didn’t_ understand. “You kissed me, and all you can think about is Buffy?” She flung her arms out dramatically, voice rising.

“No!” Faith hurried to explain. “I wasn’t thinking of Buffy when I kissed you. After the kiss, that’s when the B thing came up.” Faith swallowed hard. She wanted to pull Dawn back into her arms, but visions of knives and fireballs danced in her head.  

Faith thought actual steam might come out of Dawn’s ears. “Kissing me was so boring you thought of my sister right afterward?” She stamped her foot. “Go to hell, Faith!” Before Faith could respond, Dawn sprinted for the house, slamming the door to the kitchen behind her.

“Fuck.” Faith jammed her hands in her pockets, and hunched forward. What the hell just happened? The kiss…A smirk twisted Faith’s lips. The kiss had been unbelievable. Who would have thought Buffy’s sister had such talent? Running her hands through her hair, Faith rolled her neck to get rid of the stiffness. No matter how amazing kissing Dawn had been, it was over. It wouldn’t – it couldn’t happen again. Faith had no intention of facing off with Buffy for any reason.

She had a job to do. Focusing on that, instead of a pair of blue eyes and soft lips, Faith stalked into the house. The Scoobies were waiting. They had a fight to plan.

The living room was crowded.  The Scoobies and Willow’s family ranged around the room. “We need to speed up the time table, boys and girls,” she announced without fanfare. “In case you missed the excitement, the First seems to be on the move. His crew managed to get into the house this morning.”

“What do you w-want us to do?” Tara asked. She sat next to one of Willow’s clones.

Faith frowned, uncomfortable with even a Willow look-alike in position to critique her leadership skills. “T, you and Jennifer need to get the beacon spell up and running. I don’t know if the rest of you noticed, but the guys with the knives were in the Potentials’ rooms.”

No one said anything. Faith saw a lot of uncomfortable looks pass around the room. Stifling a sigh, she waited. Finally, Xander spoke up. “We’ll stop working on the bunk house, then. You want everyone here?”

“Yeah.” Faith smiled at Xander, relieved someone else understood. “We need to find a way to cram as many people into the main house as possible. It makes keepin’ everybody safe easier.”

“You can use the basement, if you want,” Jennifer offered quietly. “Not the Altar Room. We’ll need that for spells. The rest is big enough for a dozen people, if you bunk them.”

Faith considered that, hands rubbing nervously over her thighs. What should she do? She scanned the room. Maybe someone else would take the decision out of her hands, or say something to help her decide. Muscles tightening from the tension, Faith caught Dawn’s eyes. _She still looks pissed_. The thought floated through her mind. She couldn’t look away.

The warmth around her heart was back. Smiling, Faith relaxed. It would be OK. “Can you do that, Xan? Give us a room to store the kiddies when they show up?”

“They don’t call me Carpenter Guy for nothing,” he quipped. Grinning, he spread his arms expansively. “What else would you like? Five piece bath? A walk in closet for all your leather pants?”

“We get out of this alive, you’re on.” Faith turned to Kirstan. “Those guys got all the way to the house. That’s bad. Any ideas on how to keep ‘em out?”

Kirstan frowned, arms crossed over her chest. “Not really. Jennifer set up the warding on the ranch when we first moved here. We’ve never had any trouble.”

“Hate to break it to, Old Timer, but you’re way past trouble.” Winking at Kirstan’s glare, Faith picked up a dry erase marker from the table behind her. “Xan, I know we’ve got you doing the remodel, but you got any advice from your soldier days?”

“Set up a perimeter.” All the laughter was gone. Xander’s voice was clipped, flat. “You need sentries around the house, at least. The gates, too, if you can manage.”

Faith’s confidence faded slightly. They didn’t have the manpower for that. “Fuck.” Hopping up, she sat on the table and stared at the gang. “Alright, listen up.” Stomach twisting with nerves, Faith made her decision. “Until we get more girls here, things are going to be tight. Kirstan,” she glanced at the retired Slayer, “get the new kids trained. We don’t got time for technique and style. Just make sure they know which end of a stake to use. T, once you and Jennifer do the beacon spell, start looking for some way to ward the house. I want more than one layer of protection, starting at the gate and working back.”

She could feel the tension in the room rising as the meeting continued. The Scoobies, more experienced and used to the pace, were hitting their stride. Willow’s family, though, looked stunned and scared. “One more thing before we all run off.” Faith blinked when the room went instantly silent. “Um…” The weight of command was back. Taking a deep breath, Faith ignored the panic causing her heart to pound, and continued. “Giles, I’m hoping you’ve got the lowdown on what other tricks the First has. Them guys this morning took us by surprise, but they weren’t all that hard to bring down.”

Giles nodded. Faith noticed he sat in an armchair, well away from the rest of the crew. “This morning’s attackers are known as Harbingers of Death. As you no doubt noticed, they are human.” He rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Without the Council’s records, I can only report from memory. The ‘Bringers are bound to the First through a bond of some sort. That bond allows them to communicate with others of their kind telepathically.”

“So the ones this morning were a test.” Kirstan moved closer, leaning against the arm of a chair. “We can assume the First now knows the layout of the upstairs and the identities of at least a few of us.”

“Won’t do him much good,” Faith commented, jumping down from the table. She paced restlessly. “Any other minions we need to worry about?”

Giles shook his head. “Nothing I recall.”

“What about the Turok Han?” Anya smiled brightly at everyone when they looked her way. “I mean, the First would have to locate the Seal and do a little chanting and sacrificing…You can’t just do any old ritual, either. There’s this whole-“

“An!” Xander interrupted. He looked at Faith, grimacing. “Sorry. She gets lost in the past sometimes. Honey, what’s a Turok Han, and why would the First want it?”


	31. Chapter 31

“You’ve never heard of the Turok Han?” Anya was shocked. “I just…that’s…Giles?” she asked in confusion.

He shook his head tiredly, and Faith realized for the first time how very old he looked. “No, my dear. I’m afraid not. Perhaps you could enlighten us?”

Nodding slowly, Anya peered around the room at her audience. “The Turok Han are old.” For once, she wasn’t bubbly at the attention. She hesitated. “They are the original vampires, actually. The ones today were mixed with human genes centuries ago.”

“Same method of Slaying?” Faith asked. Anya was making her nervous. Xander’s girlfriend didn’t usually look so freaked. Twisting the cap on the marker in her hands, she watched the ex-demon closely.

“Not exactly.” Anya didn’t offer anything else, and Faith jumped off the table, too full of energy to sit any longer. However, Anya must have thought she was about to go Evil Faith. The blonde’s eyes widened, and she started speaking quickly. “You can still stake them, and sunlight is always a plus.”

Xander pulled his girlfriend close. “I’m sensing a but in there somewhere, An.”

Nodding her agreement, Faith leaned back against the table, clutching it with her hands. “Me, too, Demon Girl. We ain’t got time for sugar coating. Lay it all out for us.”

She felt her heart pound as Anya looked at her and announced, “Two things, really. One, they’re strong. Comparing, say, Angel to a Turok Han is like comparing my Xander to you, Faith.”

“Hey, I do OK,” Xander protested. “Vampires run screaming when I’m on the job.”

Smiling and patting his hand, Anya agreed. “Yes, they do. As long as Buffy is standing right behind you.”

Although the byplay had the rest of the room smiling, Faith’s throat ached. It was hard to force her question out. “And the second thing?” This whole First thing just kept getting worse.

“I…I guess there are three things, really,” Anya babbled. “Um, don’t bother with the holy water.” Recovering her usual perky personality, she grinned. “Holy water seems to run off these guys like they've been scotch-guarded." No one laughed, and she slumped. “OK, fine. Be that way. I was just trying to lighten the mood.”

The pouting lasted until Giles cleared his throat. Sounding put upon, Anya continued, “They also have really strong sternums.”

“And that means?” Faith growled. No one else said anything. All eyes locked onto the two women.

“Eat your Wheaties before you stake them.” Anya smirked. “Stakes need a little something extra behind them to go through a Turok Han’s chest.”

Faith rubbed her neck. “So we need a better way to kill them. If it takes too much effort to dust them, we can’t have the kids or the rest of you that up close and personal.” Without really thinking about it, she mumbled, “Fuck. It was easier playing on the other side. We never worried about this shit.”

She froze at the silence enveloping the room.

“There’s always beheading,” Kirstan commented, finally breaking the vocal lockdown. “Messy and it still means getting awfully close to the target, but even a ‘normal’ human can swing a sword or axe.”

Still reeling from all the details and considerations, Faith spun away from the group, pretending to look at the notes scribbled on the white board behind her. Her stomach burned and twisted. There were too many things that needed to be the number one priority. They had too few people to get all the tasks done at once.

While she struggled to make some kind of plan, the Willow-clone next to Tara asked Anya, “If Mr. Giles doesn’t know about these vampires, how do you?”

Faith heard the old Scooby gang laugh. “Have you ever heard of a demon named Anyanka?”

“Oddly enough, yes.” More silence. Faith waited for the rest of the answer as a plan started to come together in her mind. “Willow said she brought some vampire version of her to Sunnydale once,” the clone continued.

“Oh, that.” Anya sounded dismissive. “That really didn’t work out very well. That vampire was supposed to help me find my amulet, _not_ turn into some fanged version…”

Faith slowly turned around. Her head pounded in time with her racing heart. How the hell did B do this all the time? She watched the gang, trying to feel out their morale, enjoying the byplay that was so much a part of Scooby life.

Head bowed and eyes closed in seeming pain, Xander muttered, “An, not now. Just please answer their questions, OK?”

“I did.” Faith smirked as Anya stared at Xander in confusion. “They wanted to know how I knew about the Turok Han. I was in the process of explaining that when you interrupted me.” She crossed her arms, glaring around the room. “Twelve hundred years. After all that time, I should understand you humans better. What more should I have said, Xander?”

“Twelve hundred years?” Willow’s sister squeaked, eyes wide. “She’s joking – right?” she pleaded with Xander.

He grinned and shook his head. “Nope.” Pushing his chest out and thumping it with a fist, he declared, “I am a demon magnet. Incan mummies, vampire hotties – I’ve attracted them all.” He grunted when Anya smack his arm.

“I told you, you’re mine now. You shouldn’t talk about your former girlfriends anymore,” Anya informed him.

This was getting out of hand. It was time to get everyone back on track. Faith pushed away from the table. “Thanks for the info, Anya.”

The blonde barely glanced at her, still busy glaring at Xander. Faith went on,  “I guess we kinda forget you have a lot of info on the demon world.” She was feeling her way. “You, uh, you mentioned the First needed to call these Uber Vamp guys. Does that mean we might have a chance of keeping them out of the fight?”

Anya nodded, finally backing off the glare. “Yes.”

Sagging in relief, Faith rubbed the back of her neck. “Alright, gang. I know we keep changing things up. Let’s add one more item to the to do list: keeping the First from calling up the Turok Han.” 

“I believe I can help with that,” Giles offered. “Anya mentioned a ritual. Perhaps she and I could research that and the possible locations of the Seal.”

“Good enough.” Faith grinned, energized by the ex-Watcher’s return to full duty. “Here’s the new assignment list. T, you and Red’s mom do the beacon thing. Kirstan, you work with the kids and start getting them ready for the fight.” No one moved. This was old news. “Giles, you and Anya work on stopping this ritual. Xan – we’re going to wait on the bunk beds. I need some kind of plan for the perimeter watch, and…” Faith hesitated, unable to remember Willow’s sister’s name.

A familiar quirky grin flashed. “Drew.”

“Right. Drew. You’re now in charge of the Hospitality Suite. Nothing fancy. Blankets and sleeping bags on the floor. It’s going to be one big indoor camping trip for whoever shows up.” This was it. Show time. Faith swallowed hard, hoping she hadn’t forgotten anything. Watching the gang break up and start on their tasks, she went over her plan again, poking at it, looking for holes.

A quiet voice interrupted her mental scrambling. “Should we leave Buffy and Willow out in the guest house?”

Dawn. Damn. Faith’s hands clenched, and she sucked in a deep breath before turning to face the younger girl. “They said they needed a break.” She couldn’t quite meet Dawn’s piercing blue eyes. Heart pounding, Faith struggled with an unusual hesitancy. Feeling awkward and almost shy, she mumbled, “It’s going to be crowded and busy in here. Don’t think that’s what the girls had in mind when they decided on a mini-vacation.”

She jerked when a warm hand caught her arm. “Faith, what if the First sends more of those ‘Bringers? Buffy and Willow don’t even know about them. They need to come in with the rest of us,” Dawn elaborated. Her voice was impatient, and Faith flushed. She hadn’t thought of that.

“Oh.” What else had she overlooked? Faith wrapped her arms around herself.  “Good point.” Clearing her throat, she looked at Dawn. Those deep blue eyes left warmth wherever they touched. Muscles she hadn’t even realized were tense relaxed. “I guess I need to go give them the news, then.”

Dawn shook her head. “No. _We’ll_ go talk to them. I think you and I have some things to discuss after the big meeting, and I don’t want you to disappear.”

***

Groaning, Buffy tossed her head from side to side. “Will,” she gasped, “please-“

“Please what, baby?” A triumphant smile on her lips, Willow leaned forward and blew a gentle breath over Buffy’s exposed clit. The smile mutated into a smirk at the hoarse shout the action garnered.

She waited. Buffy remained quiet – if you discounted the desperate sounding panting. Narrowing her eyes in concentration, Willow decided it was time to get serious. Obviously, she wasn’t working hard enough. Using just the tip of her tongue, she traced a teasing trail from the blonde’s clit through her wet folds. When she reached her target, Willow firmed up her tongue and thrust it as deeply as she could into her lover.

Strong hands gripped her hair as she lashed both sides of Buffy’s clenching inner walls. The body beneath her stiffened and stilled for a second then shuddered before finally collapsing back to the bed.

“Oh my God,” Willow heard as she crawled up the bed. “Will, where…how…oh my God.”

“You said that already, Buffy.” Laughing gently, Willow pulled Buffy into her arms, kissing her softly. “So, it was OK for you?”

Hazy hazel eyes stared at her. “Yeah. OK.” The eyes rolled and then closed. “If it got anymore OK’er, I’d been a puddle of Slayer goo.”

Giggling, Willow rested her cheek on Buffy’s hair. “Hmmm, good. Although, next time I’m pushing for the goo.” She drifted for a while, basking in the feel of Buffy in her arms.

A low rumble interrupted her fugue state.

“Hungry, Buffy?” She peered down, noting the slight blush on Buffy’s face.

“Maybe just a little,” her wife mumbled seconds before a louder growl sounded. Buffy cleared her throat. “Or a lot.”

Willow rolled off the bed. “Shower time for you, then. I’ll see what’s in the kitchen.” She held out her hand. “Move it, Slayer. I don’t want that beast in your stomach to get angry.” Buffy’s pout made her lips twitch, but Willow stayed firm. “Don’t make me magic your ass into the bathroom, Buffy.”

***

Hands covered in soapy water, Willow looked at Buffy. “You know, for a supposedly warded and private cabin, we get a lot of guests.”

“Not your sister again?” Buffy grumped, rinsing off the last of their breakfast dishes.

“Worse.” Willow frowned fiercely. “Faith and Dawn.” She built a door in the warding, keeping it open only long enough for the pair to walk through before sealing them off again. “Next time, we’re taking a vacation in another dimension.” Unease knotted her stomach. Already, Buffy looked tense, lines bracketing her mouth and eyes.

Shrugging, Buffy dropped the dish towel on the counter. “Like you told me earlier – let’s get through this latest Apocalypse. Then we explore our options.”

Hand in hand, they trudged into the living room, dropping into chairs at the table. Seconds later, a sharp knock sounded at the door. “Here we go,” Willow grimly announced.


	32. Chapter 32

“Come in,” Willow called out. The door slowly eased open.

Dawn hesitantly peered around the frame. “You guys decent?” Seeing them sitting – fully clothed – at the table, she grinned. “Good. I didn’t want any mental scarring from seeing Buffy having sex.”

Despite the tension, Willow smiled back. “Not sex, Dawnie. Love.” Faith snorted from her position by the door. Willow’s smile faded. “Did you have something to add?” A hint of power edged the words.

“Nah, not me.” Faith slouched against the wall, eyes on the floor. It wasn’t the cocky pose Willow remembered. Something was bothering Faith. Heightened tension snaked through the cabin. “D and me just wanted to give you guys an update. Things are pretty fucked up.”

Buffy’s quiet, “Big surprise,” seemed to echo in the room.

Faith looked up. Voice hoarse, she mumbled, “Hey, B. You, ah, look better than….than before. Not quite as, um, tired.” Rocking on her heels, Faith stuffed her hands in the pockets of her jeans.

“Thanks.” The stilted conversation was painful to watch. Willow suddenly realized this was the first time the Slayers had met since Buffy had gone to Los Angeles and Faith had turned herself in to the police. Buffy’s grip on her hand tightened. “Thanks for coming out to help, Faith,” Buffy continued. The words sounded sincere, and Faith’s rocking slowed.

A small smile lightened Faith’s countenance. “Yeah. I got your back, B.” She cleared her throat. “Wish I could leave you to the honeymoon and all, though.”

“You need us?” Willow couldn’t help interrupting. Buffy and Faith’s conversational dancing was taking too long. She needed to know – _now_ – how bad things had gotten. Leaving Faith in charge had been a terrible idea.

“Faith’s got the gang on top of it, Willow.” Dawn poked Faith in the arm, earning a dark look from the brunette Slayer. “If you don’t want to join a work group, we’ll be alright.”

She was missing something. “If you don’t need our help, why are you here?”

“Will!” Buffy protested. “That wasn’t nice.”

Faith chuckled. “No big, B. Red isn’t real happy I’m here at all. I guess us showing up and ruining your vacation isn’t helping.” Meeting Willow’s eyes, she went on, “We may have the research under control, but the First has a few tricks up his sleeve. He sent some bad guys here this morning.” Faith glanced at Dawn, lips twitching. “Thanks to Little Sis, here, I’m still on the active list.”

Dawn grinned and buffed her nails on her shirt. “Yep. Just call me the Firestarter. Good for lighting camp fires and demon torching.”

Faith grinned back. Willow frowned. When had all this chumminess happened? “Why don’t you two have a seat. Explanations sound good, and I’m not leaving here until I’m convinced we have to.”  Willow refused to give an inch. The First be damned. Buffy was her primary concern right now. If she didn’t have to let Buffy back into the fight, the whole ranch, Sunnydale…it could all burn down around them. The cabin was safe, and Buffy needed the rest.

“Sure.” Dawn dragged a much more reluctant Faith across the room. Sitting down, she patted the seat of the chair next to her and waited until Faith sighed and slumped into it. “The First sent some things called ‘Bringers. They managed to get through Jennifer’s wards and into Kennedy’s and Amanda’s rooms.”

“Bringers?” Buffy sat forward. “No eyes, robes?”

Dawn nodded. “That’s them.”

Turning slightly so she could see Buffy and as well as Dawn and Faith, Willow asked, “Have we seen them before?” Willow didn’t remember them.

“Sort of.” Buffy’s right leg started to bounce. “You remember the Christmas it snowed?” Willow nodded. “Well, the ‘Bringers were the guys doing all the chanting and stuff under the Christmas tree lot. They weren’t much of a threat, though.”

“Don’t know about then, B. I was stuck at home with your mom and the eggnog,” Faith snipped. “They made a mess, that’s for sure. And the new kids were useless. Junior wasn’t quite screaming when I got there, but it was close. Biggest problem I see is: they’re human.”

The news wasn’t welcome. Willow felt Buffy’s hand flinch in hers. Faith looked pale, and the hand resting on the table twitched restlessly. Perfect. Like they needed more than the usual demons on the horizon. Slayers didn’t kill humans. Faith’s walk on the Dark Side had been an exception. Accidental deaths, sure. Planned killings? Willow’s head pounded. It would eat Buffy and Faith up inside every time they took out a ‘Bringer.

“That’s not good.” The link flooded with Buffy’s unease. She sprang to her feet, pacing behind Willow’s chair. “Giles have any suggestions? I mean, a way to keep them off the ranch?”

“No.” Faith watched Buffy tensely, the pace of her tapping fingers increasing. “He’s working with Anya. There’s bigger fish to fry than the guys in robes.”

Dawn reached out, placing her hand on top of Faith’s, stilling the fingers.

Without looking away from the pacing Buffy, Faith went on, “They think the First is going to call up some super vamps or something.”

Willow frowned. She’d been watching Faith. As the other girl had spoken, she’d twined her fingers with Dawn’s. Faith  - holding hands? The conversation faded out. Willow ran through everything since Faith and Dawn had shown up. Oh shit. No way. Praying Buffy didn’t notice her preoccupation, Willow extended a tendril of power, testing the energy surrounding Faith and Dawn.

“Oh my Goddess!” Willow bit her lip. There was…Faith and Dawn. “Oh my Goddess.”

“Hey,” Buffy laid a hand on her shoulder. “I’m sure Faith and the guys have it under control.” The hand tightened. “Right?” she directed at Faith.

Faith nodded; although, she didn’t look completely confident. “Right, B. Under control. Giles and Anya are working on the super vamps; me and Xan are doing some planning for patrols; the witchy crew is doing the beacon spell and beefing up the magical protections.”

Eyes widening, Willow watched Dawn edge her chair closer to Faith’s. Neither of the brunettes seemed aware of the movement. Willow was. She so was. Buffy would freak if she figured it out. Willow wasn’t doing well in the freak department, either.

Dawn deserved better than a convicted murderer. Willow tested the tenuous bond. There was still time. It wasn’t complete. “What do you need us to do?” she asked, mind working on a plan, a way to separate them before it was too late.

***

Dawn scooted closer. Faith winked at the younger girl. Things were going alright. Red was a little moody, but that was normal. “For now, just pack up and follow us back to the house. Everyone’s off doing their own thing, so you can sneak up and hide out.”

“You really don’t need us?” Buffy was wide eyed.

“No, B.” Faith smirked, leaning back in her chair and idly stroking Dawn’s jeans-covered thigh. “We’re good.” She might have her doubts about her ability to lead; she’d never admit them to Buffy.

Buffy still didn’t look convinced. A frown tugged her lips. “Alright. We don’t have anything to pack. Unless…Will? Did you have anything?”

Shaking her head, Willow glared at Faith. Faith followed the laser-like look – and jerked her hand from Dawn’s leg. Fuck. When had that happened? Her palm felt warm. Rubbing her own thigh this time, Faith tried to smile at Willow. It didn’t work. The glare didn’t fade.

“Will?” Buffy must have felt the tension now. She turned to face Faith, hands resting on Willow’s shoulders. “What’s with the killing look?”

Faith wanted an answer, too. She was doomed to disappointment. Narrow shoulders shrugged, and the green eyes dropped. “Just thinking about the First and how I’m way pissed our vacation got cut short.” Willow stood abruptly. “It so doesn’t want to get in my way right now.”

There was no doubt in Faith’s mind that Willow was lying. The verbal warning was meant for her, not the First. Playing a hunch, she got to her feet and held out a hand to Dawn. “Come on, baby, let’s show the girls to their rooms.”

Bullseye. Willow took the bait. “ _Baby?_ When did Dawn become your baby?”

“Chill, Red. I was just joking,” Faith mocked. It wasn’t exactly a lie.

Three pairs of eyes stared at her.

Raising her hands in surrender, Faith reiterated, “Joking. Got it? As in, not serious.”

“Thanks, Faith. Nice to know how you really feel.” Dawn spun and stalked for the door, slamming it behind her.

“Is there something you want to tell me?” Buffy asked in a soft voice. Faith looked at her quickly. Not good. Buffy was pale, lips pressed tightly together. The hands on Willow’s shoulders were now gripping, not resting.

Faith’s stomach cramped, the scar burning. “Nothing, B.” She forced herself to meet the hazel eyes. “I was just trying to be funny. Guess I missed.” Her hands balled into fists, and Faith struggled to stay in the cabin. She wanted, needed to go after Dawn. Explain.

That wasn’t an option. Willow, at least, suspected there was more than friendship between her and Dawn. Buffy was merely responding to her comment. It was time to pull away. Leave Dawn alone until things cooled down. Faith sighed, already feeling Dawn’s absence as an emptiness deep inside.


	33. Chapter 33

Absently rubbing at the ache in her chest, Faith looked at Buffy. “Look, my bad for the joke. I’ll apologize to D the next time I see her.” The pain eased a little at the thought, and Faith relaxed some.

“Don’t worry about it.” Buffy shrugged and pulled Willow from her seat. “I guess I’m wound kind of tight. Not looking forward to getting back to work, you know?”

“Yeah.” Forcing a smile, Faith murmured, “It was nice getting out of prison and all, but that first vamp I saw? Scared the hell out of me.” Buffy looked confused. “I hadn’t Slayed in almost two years, B. I was afraid I’d forgotten how.”

Buffy giggled and even Willow smiled at that. “Hello, Faith. We’re Slayers. I don’t think we _can_ forget. It’s part of the whole Slayer package.” They wandered outside, Willow closing and magically locking the door. Buffy moved away from Willow and poked Faith in the side. “You know, you mentioned I looked better. I’ve seen the way I look. Things must have been scary if this is an improvement.”

“Duh, B. The first time I saw you was when I had to haul your ass from the Training Barn to here. Even Angel has more color in his face than you did.” Faith jumped out of the way of Buffy’s retaliatory smack. “Did you happen to notice the smile on your face when you looked in the mirror today? I’ve never seen you look so relaxed.”

“It’s me.” Willow skipped alongside Buffy. “I’m good for her.”

Faith snorted at the cocky statement. “I’d say a little Buffy is good for you, Red. Nice modesty there, and I haven’t heard you babble once. Seems the benefits go both ways.”

“Hey! I’ve got an idea.” Buffy glowered when Faith and Willow both laughed. “Not nice. You’re both mean. Maybe I’ll keep my great thought to myself now.”

Rolling her eyes, Willow stopped their progress to hug Buffy. “I’m sorry, sweetie. We didn’t mean to insult you. Right, Faith?” She arched an eyebrow at Faith.

“Right.” Faith nodded rapidly, wanting to laugh at the two of them. “Sorry, B.”

“Well, OK.” In a complete change in mood, Buffy giggled and danced a few steps ahead before spinning to look at Willow and Faith. “I just thought, if a little Willow is good for me, maybe we should get you hooked up with Drew. I mean, she _is_ a witch. And she even looks like Willow.”

***

Buffy grew concerned when the only response to her suggestion was the sound of the breeze in the trees and the chirping of the birds. Waving her hand at both of her companions, she asked, “You both still with me?”

“Right here, Buffy.” Willow’s light voice was faint, and Buffy noticed she looked pale. Of course, it was nothing compared to the sallow look to Faith’s skin.

“Faith?” Still no answer. Trying to keep the mood light, but wanting to make sure Faith was OK, Buffy teased, “You’re speechless. Never thought I’d see the day.”

Finally, Faith seemed to wake up. “Whatever, B.” She cleared her throat, not looking at Buffy or Willow. Her hands jammed into her pockets, and Buffy could tell they were in fists. “Before you start planning my wedding, you should know I ain’t looking for the happy ever after.”

Thinking she knew the reason behind Faith’s comment, Buffy rushed to reassure her sister Slayer. “Faith,” she said, keeping her voice soft, “we all know you aren’t the same person you were when we first met.” She grinned a little. “Even I can see that. I know the Council thought we were both ‘unworthy’ of bonding with a witch. They were wrong.”

Faith didn’t take the hand Buffy held out to her. She merely stared at it; Buffy thought she looked like she might cry. Faith blinked rapidly, a flush crawling up her cheeks. “B-“

The husky voice cracked, and Buffy looked at Willow, hoping for some help. Willow, though, seemed entranced by Faith’s struggle. Frowning, Buffy wondered if she’d missed something, some new fight between her wife and her sister Slayer while she’d been unconscious.

“B, you have no freaking idea how much that means. That you think I deserve something like what you have with Red.” As Buffy watched, a single tear made its way down Faith’s cheek. She didn’t seem to notice. Voice choked, she went on, “I can’t, though. Whatever happened to make the Council take me off the marriage list, they’re right. At least, they are now. I don’t deserve a partner.” Faith held up a hand, and Buffy closed her mouth with a snap, the protest unsaid. “When this is over, I’m going back to prison.”

“No way.” Buffy stepped forward, gripping Faith’s shoulder hard enough to bruise.

Faith wrenched away. “Yes, B. Remember what you said to me on the roof in LA? I belong in jail. I’m a killer. That didn’t disappear. Just because I’m here helping you with the First doesn’t change what I am or what I did.” She took a couple of steps away. “Look, I’m going to hit the training place.” Faith sprinted away.

“What the hell?” Buffy shook her head, confused and a little hurt at Faith’s response. Then she noticed Willow’s reaction. Willow stared after Faith, lips trembling. “Will, you want to tell me what’s going on? What the hell am I missing?” She started to get angry, especially when no answer was forthcoming. “Will! The trust and honesty thing goes both ways, you know. I deserve an answer. What’s with you and Faith?”

“I made a mistake,” Willow whispered.

Buffy moved slowly in Willow’s direction. Afraid to move too quickly, not wanting to startle Willow and end the conversation. “A mistake? What kind of mistake?” No way had Willow and Faith slept together – or even done anything remotely sexual. Buffy knew that information would have come through the link. Still, her head started to pound with the anguish coming through their link.

“I don’t…I don’t know how to explain. Look through the link, Buffy.” Willow met her eyes pleadingly.

Closing her eyes, Buffy let her inner vision go to work. Following the brightly flowing energy stretching between them, Buffy shuddered at the whirling mixture of pain, embarrassment, and shame in Willow’s mind. She nearly got sidetracked until an astral Willow took her hand and pulled her farther, past their bodies. It was like flying. Buffy ‘saw’ the ground whipping by, felt the wind on her face.

They ended their journey at the Training Barn. _Is that…?_ Buffy asked.

 _Dawn_ , Willow confirmed. Buffy’s sister was wrapped around someone, kissing them almost violently. Buffy heard/felt Willow’s surprise and unease in the mental tone.

 _This is what you and Faith were being so weird about?_ Buffy didn’t get the problem. Dawn was old enough to date. It was a little uncomfortable to be watching her sister, but Buffy still didn’t understand Willow’s and Faith’s earlier reactions.

Astral Willow shook her head. _Look at Dawn, Buffy. Not the surface. Scan her._  

Reaching out, Buffy intuitively followed the energy patterns swirling in the air between them. With a frown, she saw the beginning construction of a conduit. _A bond?_ Buffy asked, heart racing. _Dawn’s bonded?_ No way. Dawn was too young. And…with whom? There were only a few possibilities.

Before Buffy could sort them all out, Dawn broke off the kiss and moved away from her companion. Buffy’s eyes narrowed and rage made her shake. _Kennedy_? She peered at the budding bond harder. No. There were no similar formations in the Potential’s aura.

An explosion of raw agony staggered her. Through the waves of pain, Buffy frantically searched for the cause.

Faith. Faith stood at the door to the barn. The delicate outline of her new bond with Dawn was clearly visible. The longer Faith stood watching Dawn and Kennedy, though, that bond twisted, the bright, shining conduit darkening, becoming brittle.

Willow tensed next to her. Buffy sensed the enormous power gathering around them.

Faith stepped toward the couple, hands balled into fists.

The magical energy swirling around Buffy increased again. Drunk on the power, Buffy barely managed to ask, _What are you doing?_

 _Making sure Faith doesn’t do something stupid_ , came the angry response. Buffy mentally nodded, realizing Willow was prepared to magically stop Faith if she went after Kennedy.

 _Wait, Will. Look at her._ Faith wasn’t ready to charge. Far from it. She swayed on her feet, face alarmingly pale. Her arms wrapped around her stomach, and she doubled over. _Get us back to our bodies. Something’s wrong. Hurry!_

***

Faith stared at Dawn and Kennedy kissing. It was what she’d wanted. Dawn didn’t need someone like her, with her past. She wouldn’t have to worry about Buffy beating her to death anymore, either. Unfortunately, the happiness she should have been feeling was absent. Instead, a tearing agony raced through Faith.

Her stomach cramped. Nausea and pain mixed, and she finally went to one knee. Breathing shallowly, Faith squeezed her eyes shut.

She was so focused on the agony tearing through her, Faith didn’t hear Jennifer come out of the house. She did, however, flinch when a warm hand pressed against her shoulder. “Easy, Faith. Let me help.” Jennifer spoke in a soft, soothing tone.

Faith wanted to pull away. She remembered Jennifer’s reaction to her revelation about prison. However, the pain was too much. Faith gave in, nodding her permission.

She dimly heard Jennifer start to chant. A cool tickle moved through her. She shuddered at the feeling, fighting nausea and a strange desire to laugh. Finally, the pain was gone. The tickle lingered for a minute, and then it, too, disappeared. Faith shoved to her feet, wavering slightly. “What the hell just happened, and what did you do to me?”

Jennifer sighed, and Faith thought she looked worried. “I put up a block in your mind. It won’t last long, though. You’ll have to learn to do it yourself.” She grimaced. “Or deal with Dawn.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those of you who have read any of the Bondsverse works, this *isn't* the same type of bond, and it's clearly not the same D/s universe. I wrote this fic years and years before the Bondsverse was an inkling of irritating voices in my head :)


	34. Chapter 34

Jennifer’s block made the pain nothing more than a heavy pressure on the back of her mind. At the sound of Dawn’s name, though, the pressure surged. The barrier wavered, and Faith grimaced at the returning ache deep inside. “Dawn.” Her eyes zeroed in on the younger girl – and her heart stopped. “D!”

Racing across the clearing, Faith slid to her knees next to Dawn’s prone figure. Kennedy backed away before running for the house. “Come on, D. It’s gonna be OK,” Faith rashly promised, pulling Dawn into her arms. The pain flooded through her. Ignoring the waves of agony, Faith rocked the girl in her arms.

Barely aware of anything outside the fire racing along her veins, Faith dimly felt twin pressures on her shoulders. “Hang on, Faith. Let me help.”

“Red?” The single word had Faith gritting her teeth against new pain. Cold sweat slicked her skin.

“Don’t forget me, Faith. We come as a pair now.” Another pair of hands gripped Faith’s where they cradled Dawn as Buffy crouched in front of them. “Will’s going to help, make sure you and Dawn are back to normal.”

Normal? Faith didn’t remember what that was. Still, as long as the pain was gone, she’d deal. “Dawn first.” She managed to raise her eyes to Buffy’s. “Take care of Dawn first.”

Buffy nodded tersely, her own eyes drifting up to a spot over Faith’s head. “You heard her, Will.”

Time lost meaning. Faith lived and breathed pure pain. Trembling, tears flowing in a steady stream down her face, she braced as best she could and waited. Dawn remained still in her arms, not moving. “Please, Dawn. Let Red help you.” She managed to move one hand from its spot on Dawn’s arm, gently stroking her pale face.

The burning in her mind continued to build until Faith was sure her head was going to blow off or she passed out. Body vibrating with fine tremors, she started to lower Dawn to the ground before she inadvertently hurt her.

“Faith?” Faith twitched at the soft, confused voice. Dawn’s blue eyes blinked slowly.

The tears fell faster. Faith tried to answer, but her voice wouldn’t work. She closed her eyes, drooping forward. The hands on her shoulders tightened; the ones in front holding her up.

A gentle breeze blew through her mind. Spreading out, the wind extinguished the fire scorching her nerve endings. When the breeze died out, a layer of ice coated her mind. Faith felt the pain lingering behind those frigid walls. Like Jennifer’s previous try, Willow’s shielding could only help. Their problems weren’t over, only delayed. Opening her eyes, Faith peered blearily at Dawn.

Those bright blue eyes seemed to wrap around her. “You OK, D?” She couldn’t hold back the question.

“I think so,” Dawn whispered back. Her lips trembled suddenly, and Faith struggled not to bend down, place her own lips there to keep them still. “I’m so sorry, Faith.”

“Oh, baby, it’s not your fault.” Closing her eyes, Faith cursed her mouth. Damn it. She wasn’t supposed to be comforting Dawn. She should be tossing her on the ground and running for the gates. Buffy and Willow were right here, watching everything. Faith figured the pain from earlier would be nothing compared to Buffy kicking her ass for even thinking about Dawn as more than a friend.

Fingers drifted over her lips and then her eyelids. “Look at me, Faith.”

Faith stubbornly shook her head.

Dawn shifted in her lap, and the fingers were replaced with soft lips. Faith jerked back, bumping into Willow’s legs. Dawn’s fingers wove into her hair, pulling her back for a kiss. Heat exploded inside, beginning to melt the barrier Willow had created. Liquid sunshine flowed through her veins.

With Herculean effort, Faith tore her mouth from Dawn’s. Panting and panicking, she stood; although, she very carefully set Dawn on the grass, not dumping her roughly. “No, D. We can’t do this.” She felt a warning tingle in her mind.

***

Buffy watched Faith and Dawn, sensing a fight on the way. From the strain on both of their faces, Willow’s block was failing.  She didn’t want a repeat of the screaming and fainting. “Faith, wait!” Moving quickly, she grabbed Faith’s arm, keeping her from running.

She could feel the muscles under her hand trembling. “Let me go, B. I’m no threat. Not to you or Dawn.” Faith’s voice was husky and wavered toward the end.

“I never said you were, Faith,” Buffy answered softly. Not wanting to push Faith further, she took a step backward, hand slipping from Faith’s arm. “We all need to talk. Get this straightened out before we go inside.”

Faith flinched, arms wrapping around herself. Buffy thought fleetingly that Faith looked like a puppy expecting to be kicked. She was curled in on herself, accepting of the blow, but protecting vital organs.

The pose woke something primal in Buffy. Her Slayer raised her head, a sleepy growl sounding in her mind. “I said, we need to talk.” Buffy’s voice was deeper, rougher this time. The pleading edge disappeared. This time, the phrase was filled with pure command.

Responding to the tone, Faith nodded immediately. Her posture, however, remained almost submissive. She stood, body partially turned away, head down. “Sure, B. Whatever you want. Talking’s better than stabbing, you know?” The husky voice thinned with strain, squeaking into the upper register on every other word.

The Slayer woke further. Peering through an orange haze, Buffy saw not only Faith’s budding link to Dawn, but the delicate outline of the Slayer bond. Trying to push the Slayer back into her corner and chilled by the memory of their fight to the near-death, Buffy snapped, “Do you see a knife, Faith?”

Power uncoiled through her; the Slayer demanded control. Buffy refused. The last time the Slayer had been in control, Kennedy had nearly become a grease spot on the gravel in front of the house. The internal rumbling turned impatient. Violence wasn’t on the menu, it assured her. The Slayer merely wanted to help Dawn and Faith come to terms with their bond. Letting go, Buffy mentally stepped back.

Faith must have felt the change. Her head came up for an instant, an answering flare of orange overlaying her brown eyes. “B?” The Slayer smiled at the deep note in her Second’s voice.

“It is time to stop running,” the Slayer stated firmly. She stalked toward Faith, gesturing to her Mate and her Sibling. “You are needed here.” Crossing her arms, the Slayer waited for the Young One’s agreement.

“No.” The unexpected refusal was swift. Faith’s Slayer stood tall and confident, glaring defiance.

The Slayer sprang across the space, hand gripping the Other’s shirt at the throat. Growling softly, she challenged Faith’s Slayer. Finely honed senses noted that her Mate and her Sibling hovered nearby, their thoughts reaching out, trying to stop the inevitable.

Buffy, too, reached out, screaming silently, _No violence. You told me there would be no fighting_.

Ignoring all of the distractions, the Slayer glared at the Young One in her grasp. “You will stay. You are needed, and your Mate is here.” The Slayer was prepared to force the issue, no matter the promise made to her host, if the Young One refused.

The choice of words panicked Faith’s Slayer. Twisting and snarling, she fought to get free. Her struggles barely registered with the Slayer. Angered and sickened at the fear in her Younger Sib, the Slayer’s hands tightened on Faith’s shirt, ripping it.

“Why do you fight? It is what you want, need. The path has been set.” The Slayer didn’t understand. Holding Faith’s Slayer in place, she stared into wild eyes.

“I am damaged. There will be another for-“ the low words cut off. The proud stance faltered.

Shaking her head, the Slayer disagreed. “It is past. My host has relented. You are part of her pack. Take your place here, as her Younger Sib.”

She waited impatiently for an answer. “I cannot.” The body in Buffy’s hands straightened again. “Dawn will find another. There are many on their way here. I can feel them through the Line.”

“No!” The Slayer growled the word, pitching the Young One across the clearing. “The bond is set. You must Mate.” She paused, eyes gleaming ferally. “Or you will die.”

A scream shattered the hostile atmosphere between the two Slayers. Dawn ran to Faith’s side. “Buffy! What are you doing?” Shock and anger showed in her blue eyes.

Her Sibling was too late. The Young One would bow to her fate; the Slayer was determined. Almost smiling, she paced toward the pair. “Buffy is gone,” she repeated. “Only the Slayer remains.” With surprising gentleness, the Slayer picked Dawn up and set her several feet to the side. “You must wait, my Sister. Your Mate must accept my decree; then you will be free to Join.”

Turning her back on Dawn, she continued until she stood over the Other. The prone posture was pleasing. Satisfaction leaked into her deep voice. “You have already shown your acceptance of my status. End this.”

***

Grappling with her own snarling Slayer, Faith tried to tell Buffy’s Slayer she was more than ready to do just that. She’d promised herself she would never fight the other girl again. Too much of their blood had already been shed.

She gained a small amount of control and started to speak. Too late. Orange eyes glowing, the Slayer lifted her off the ground. Faith closed her eyes. She was done fighting. Redemption was too hard; she’d let Buffy end it here.

A hoarse shout echoed. Faith felt weightless for several seconds before she slammed into the ground. Moaning and surprised Buffy hadn’t done anything worse, she opened her eyes. Fire surrounded Buffy, the flames waist high. The air popped and rippled from the intense heat.

Rage and fear flooded her mind, and her Slayer howled in response. Fingers digging into the ground, Faith maintained an uncertain hold on her Slayer. It lasted until Willow joined the fight. Red hair standing from her head, her voice rose above the fire. A funnel cloud spun across the ground. The fire bent toward its pull, away from the Slayer. It grew stronger; the flames weaker.

“Back off, Dawn. Let them handle this,” Willow shouted, eyes a solid blue.

Dawn wasn’t listening. She turned on Buffy, the whites of her own eyes eclipsed with blue. “Stay away from Faith, Buffy. Don’t make me hurt you.”

Faith’s Slayer clawed her way into driver’s seat and surged to her feet. This fight was unnecessary. Her host was a coward. “Stop.” The single word halted the showdown. Placing herself between her Senior and her Mate, Faith’s Slayer bowed her head. “I will submit.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So...yeah. The "wolf pack" idea came from a reader back when this fic was newly-posted. I'd written myself into a very small corner with the bond idea and had no clue how to get out. I'm not sure I did Howard's plot justice with the actual writing, though.


	35. Chapter 35

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I took a lot of heat during the initial publication of this fic because because people didn't read the disclaimers. I've found that readers *still* don't read the notes and disclaimers but... 
> 
> Dawn is 18 in this fic. Over the age of consent in *any* American state.

Faith’s Slayer dropped to one knee, head still bowed. She waited, the only sound in the clearing Dawn’s soft sobs and the sizzle from the remains of the fire ring.

“The Pack is complete.” A hand rested on lightly on the Younger Sib’s head. “Stand, Young One. The time of your Joining is at hand. Tomorrow, we will face our Enemy and our Descendents complete and whole.”

Almost purring in contentment, Faith’s Slayer rose. Her eyes swept the clearing, finding Dawn, taking in her beauty. Energy crackled around her body, the fine hairs on her forearms standing upright in response.

***

Now that the fighting and posturing was over, Buffy wasn’t about to let her Slayer officiate her own, private, shotgun wedding. Faith and Dawn deserved a chance to talk this over, to explore their relationship and the growing link. Grabbing the primal part of herself with mental hands, Buffy dragged the Slayer into the background, ignoring the howl of protest.

“Faith, you two need to be alone, spend time together. Unfortunately, we can’t let you and Dawn use the guest house. Not with the First in town. Can you put your Slayer away so we can find somewhere else?” Buffy waited tensely for Faith to return.

Heated orange eyes gazed back at her. They weren’t as aggressive as Buffy imagined they would be. As she watched, though, the color fled. In seconds, Faith’s normal brown eyes looked back at her. “Fuck, B, your Slayer tried to kill me.”

“And Willow was helping her.” Dawn ran to Faith’s side, wrapping thin arms around her waist. “Are you OK?”

Buffy snorted. “You were here, Dawn. Pull back on the protective girlfriend routine. In case you forgot, Faith’s a Slayer, too. That little toss? It probably didn’t even leave a bruise.”

“Speaking of protective girls, B,” Faith said with a grin, “yours was pretty impressive. What the hell was that thing, Red? Your pet tornado?”

Matching Faith’s smile, Willow nodded. “Something like that. Are you guys done with the chest pounding? We should probably make sure Kennedy’s alright and check in with Mom and Mama. I’m a little surprised neither one of them is here freaking out on us.”

“I’m ready.” Buffy leaned against Willow, suddenly drained. “Hey, Faith?” she asked as Willow steered them toward the house.

“Yeah, B?” Faith responded, no trace of an answering weariness in her tone.

“The Slayer was right.” The house was in sight, and Buffy slowed their progress, needing to finish. “The past is over. Maybe not forgotten,” she allowed regretfully. “Forgiven, though. Welcome home.”

Faith looked away, but not before Buffy saw the glint of tears on her eyes. “Thanks, B,” she mumbled, voice rough. “That means a lot.”

“I told you everyone would see you’d changed,” Dawn pointed out triumphantly. She glared momentarily at Buffy. “Although I’m still not happy with how you showed it.” A narrow finger pointed at her sister. “Willow won’t always be around to save you.” A giggle ruined the threat. “You should see your face.”

 A little put out when the other two laughed as well, Buffy grumbled, “Fine. I’ll make sure you aren’t there when I toss your wife around the next time.” She froze, hand on the door to the main house. Studying Faith closely, Buffy watched for a reaction.

“Wife.” Faith’s mouth worked at the word, trying it out. “Can’t say I ever thought I’d say that.”

Pulling open the door and leading the way inside, Buffy agreed. “Yep. I freaked on Will the first time she used ‘married’ and ‘us’ in the same sentence.” The large kitchen was bustling. Buffy noted several new faces fixing sandwiches and pouring drinks. “Damn. Back to work, I guess.” The fatigue grew worse, and her shoulders drooped.

***

“Just for a little while, Buffy,” Willow said quickly. She sent a frisson of energy through their link, hoping to keep Buffy from sinking back into her depression.

Her efforts gained her a smile and a kiss through the link. “Got it, Will. Short term return to duty,” Buffy said. Willow watched her mock glare at Faith. “One night. Honeymoons for active duty Slayers are one night. No more. I expect you and Dawn ready to go first thing tomorrow.”

Blushing bright red, Dawn hid her face in Faith’s neck.

Faith, of course, smirked. “As long as ‘first thing’ is lunchtime, B. I’m thinking breakfast might take us awhile.” She finished off the statement with a wink.

“Faith!” Dawn pulled away long enough to smack Faith in the stomach, earning a grunt and a pout.

Their new burst of laughter was interrupted when Jennifer approached. Wrapped in an apron and waving a ladle, she smiled. “Sorry, girls, the merriment needs to move out of my kitchen. The beacon spell is already working. Three new Potentials and their Watchers are here. We’re cooking for a huge crowd, and you,” the ladle pointed to each one of them in turn, “are taking up valuable space.”

Willow’s eyes threatened to pop out when Faith asked, “You need a hand? I ain’t much for cooking, but I make a mean salad.”

The ladle dropped onto the nearby table and Willow did a little smirking of her own at Faith’s stunned face when Jennifer pulled her into a tight hug. “I heard the word honeymoon. It couldn’t be for my daughter and her wife. That means you and Dawn are celebrating.”

Faith nodded dazedly.

“If you’re working on the bond, why are you still down here?” Jennifer teased, pushing Faith away. “I felt the Slayers doing their thing earlier. There are two rooms all ready upstairs. Pick the one you want. Once you close the door, the warding will set. Nothing in or out until you open the door again. Then all bets are off,” she warned.

Willow snickered when Faith immediately grabbed Dawn’s hand and moved toward the stairs. Over her shoulder, she called. “Hey, B, make me be at work first thing tomorrow.” She and a giggling Dawn pelted up the steps.

Watching them go, Willow’s laughter slowly faded. She pulled Buffy into her arms, chin resting on Buffy’s shoulder. “I must be sick or something. The two of them together feels right, you know?”

“Yeah, Wills. Scary, huh?” Buffy leaned her head back, meeting Willow’s eyes. “We need to let your Mom cook, and,” the eyes darkened slightly, “we need to get back to work.”

Dread twisted in Willow’s stomach. However, Buffy looked calm and determined, ready to face the Scoobies. Stepping away, Willow forced a smile, “Lead the way.”

***

Dawn led them to a door at the far end of the second-floor hallway. “This one or the one across the hall?” she asked, still smiling from the earlier laughter.

“Uh…” Now that they were here, minutes from a big heart to heart, Faith hesitated. Doubts rushed back in. “Dawn,” she started, shaking hands unerringly finding her pockets, “we don’t have to do this. I mean,” Faith scrambled to explain, “you can go back downstairs, get friendly with the new girls.” She swallowed hard. “Find someone else.”

Blue eyes swimming in tears, Dawn shook her head and moved closer. She wrapped her arms around Faith, walking them backward until they rested against one of the doors. “I don’t want anyone else, Faith. Just you.” She smiled with trembling lips. “Think back, Faith. The day we met. Didn’t you feel it? I think – even then – I knew I was yours.”

Eyes wide, Faith tried to deny that. “D, come on. You were what? Twelve? Thirteen?” Shaking her head, Faith continued, “No way. I was some almost-friend of your sister. _Maybe_ I was cooler, better dressed, sure. Nothing else. Fuck, even I wasn’t in to sex with little girls.”

“I’m not saying I wanted to throw you to the floor and rip your clothes off, Faith,” Dawn clarified, rolling her eyes. Dawn let one arm drop from around Faith. “It was…a tingle – here,” she brushed her fingers over Faith’s heart, “and here.” The fingers lightly touched Faith’s forehead.

Faith fought the answering memories. She’d been too busy trying to impress Buffy and Mrs. Summers back then to pay any notice to Buffy’s annoying little sister. Still, Dawn’s words and her touch pushed the memory forward. The ‘tingling’ had been there. It hadn’t been sexual. Faith would certainly have noticed that - and commented on it just to see Buffy’s reaction.

Dawn moved her hand away from Faith’s face, reaching back to twist the knob and open the door. Walking backward, she kept her eyes on Faith. “Come inside.” Faith didn’t move. “Please.”

The soft word coiled around Faith, pulling her into the room.

Reaching around Faith’s stiff form, Dawn closed the door.

“I’m curious,” Dawn said, dropping to sit on the bed. “Are you suddenly so brave because my sister and her Slayer aren’t here to beat you to death or do you really not want to do this?” Although Dawn looked calm, Faith heard the tightness of suppressed tears in Dawn’s voice.

All she had to do was say she didn’t want Dawn. Faith opened her mouth – and closed it.

Amazingly, despite the tension in the room, Dawn laughed. “It’s going to be really hard to do all that talking if your voice isn’t working.” Grinning at Faith, Dawn winked. “Of course, I thought ‘talking’ really meant ‘make love’.” Her blue eyes burned Faith’s skin wherever they touched.

“D-“ It was now or never. The stillness in the room, the privacy…Faith fought the desire flowing through her. Almost panting, she tried one last time to convince Dawn to leave. “I’m not-“ _good enough_ , she meant to say.

Faith found it hard to finish the statement when Dawn’s lips covered hers. 

Tentative hands brushed her sides, settling on her hips while a questing tongue stroked Faith’s. Faith was on fire. Not even Willow’s fireball could burn as hot. Wrenching her head away, she ground out, “You’re sure?”

“I’m sure.” Dawn smiled, lips swollen and red.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Faith’s approximation of Dawn’s age when they met does *not* refer to Dawn’s age in S5, but to the age Dawn would have been in the monk-planted memory of their meeting when Faith first came to Sunnydale.


	36. Chapter 36

Staring at Dawn, Faith realized she had no idea what to do. This wasn’t some quick fuck in an alley or some crappy motel room. Doubt twisted her stomach.

“Faith?” Dawn asked softly. “You still with me?”

Faith nodded, not sure her voice would work. The Slayer rumbled inside, impatient and amused. At least she wasn’t pressing for more. Faith wasn’t up to a fight – even an internal one.

“So…you’re here, but you’re mute?” Dawn was amused, too. Faith heard the tremble of suppressed laughter in her light voice. “Perfect. I guess you won’t argue when I do this.” Warm lips brushed Faith’s neck, just above the collar of her shirt.

Faith shuddered at the soft caress. “D,” she managed to squeak out.

“Yes, Faith?” The lips continued to tease and torment her neck.

“We…we have to talk.” Faith gasped, heat and cold running through her veins at the same time.

The lips paused for a second, then the word, “No,” vibrated against Faith’s skin.

Paralyzed by indecision, Faith heard her belt buckle clink open, the heavy leather hiss through the denim loops on her pants. Long, narrow fingers fumbled with the button on her jeans. Once, twice those fingers shoved at the metal circle until it slipped through the buttonhole.

Fine tremors teased Faith’s nerves – until Dawn’s hands caressed the skin between her pants and her tank top. The fingers were cold. “D?” Snapping out of her daze, Faith grabbed Dawn’s hands, eyes focusing on determined blue ones. “We don’t-“

“Yes, we do.” Dawn’s lips twitched into a brief smile, then stilled. “I just…” She ducked her head, a blush staining her face and neck. “I don’t know what to do.”

Faith’s eyes closed in a mixture of pain and tenderness at Dawn’s admission. “Of course you don’t, baby.” Lightly gripping Dawn’s chin, Faith raised it enough that she could peer intently into Dawn’s eyes. The normally clear blue had darkened, the irises merging with enlarged pupils. “One step at a time, D. You don’t like, we stop.”

Dawn nodded against Faith’s hand, her eyes never leaving Faith’s.

“OK.” Faith’s own introduction into the arts of love hadn’t included anything resembling gentleness or actual feelings. She prayed to a long forgotten God that she didn’t hurt or scare Dawn in the next few minutes. It wasn’t God who answered. The Slayer purred deep inside, and confidence replaced the hesitation.

Sighing in thanks, Faith let the ancient essence out to play.

***

They stood just outside the Research Room, and Willow hid a grimace as Buffy gripped her fingers tightly. “In or out, Buffy?” she asked softly. “No pressure,” Willow added, “I mean, if you want, we can stand out here all day.”

The babble did its job. Buffy grinned and laughed. “If we did that, your Mom would do more than just point a ladle at us.” She took a deep breath, and Willow watched as she straightened her shoulders. “Let’s go in.”

Braced for quiet intensity, hushed whispers, maybe even the first stirrings of panic, Willow was almost disappointed at the seemingly cheerful group scattered in small clumps and pairs around the room. Voices rose and fell in multiple conversations, and no one noticed their entrance.

“Research parties are way different than I remember,” Buffy commented, hands on hips.

Nodding, Willow scanned the room. Anya and Drew were the only familiar faces. “And the Scooby Gang has a lot of new members. We may need to make name tags.” Giving Buffy a tiny grin, Willow started across the room toward Drew. “Hey, little sister.”

Drew’s head snapped around, a wide grin splitting her face. “Willow!” She dropped her book and grabbed Willow in a hug. “I thought you and Buffy were going to miss all the excitement.”

***

“We thought about it,” Buffy said, enjoying the stunned look on Willow’s face at Drew’s hug. “Dawn seems to have knack for ruining my fun.”

Drew stepped back from Willow. “Little sisters are like that.” The Willow-smile erupted, and Buffy almost shook her head at the eerie similarity to _her_ Willow. “We do pretty good at pillow and tickle fights, clothes borrowing, and flushing just when you get into the shower, too.” She poked Willow. “See what you have to look forward to?”

They’d all forgotten Anya.

“I wouldn’t count on that.” Anya snapped the book she held closed. “If we can’t find the right spell, the First will have a picnic using our gutted corpses as trenchers.”

Staring at Anya, Drew murmured, “I don’t know what the hell a trencher is, but I’m betting we wouldn’t be enjoying some fried chicken and mashed potatoes.”

Whatever reply Anya made, Buffy didn’t hear. Obviously, two days weren’t enough of a vacation. She felt the room tilt for an instant, and reached for the back of a nearby chair.

“Buffy!” Willow’s arms wrapped around her, and Buffy leaned into her wife.

Her near nosedive caught Drew’s and Anya’s attention. Buffy’s skin burned under their focused gazes. “I’m fine, Will. Must have been a wrinkle in the rug or something.” She pushed away, ignoring the trembling in her legs and the tiny black dots flashing in front of her. “Come on, let’s sit down. I think we need to catch up on things.”

“Oh, it won’t take long,” Anya chirped. “Drew and I are trying to find a spell to stop the First from freeing a whole army of Super Vampires. Like I said, though, we aren’t having any luck.”

“Super Vamps?” For a second, Buffy imagined an army of red caped vampires flying across the Sunnydale skyline. Reeling from that mental picture, she dropped onto the floor in front of the love seat Anya and Drew had been using.

Drew handed Buffy a slim, leather-bound book and pointed to a particular passage. “The Turok Han.”

The words swam in front of her eyes, so Buffy shoved the book at Willow. Willow understood books and spells. “If these guys are so bad, why isn’t the whole group working on this?”

Anya rolled her eyes and crossed her arms. “Because they aren’t the only problem, Buffy.”

“Ah.” Buffy rubbed her hands up and down her arms, trying to get rid of the sudden goose bumps. “I should have known that.” Her head pounded, and she rolled her neck, trying to loosen her muscles.

The movement didn’t help. Willow’s deft touch through their link did. The shared energy steadied Buffy. Taking a deep breath, she leaned against Willow when her wife joined her on the floor.

“Law of the Hellmouth, sweetie. The more Scoobies on the job, the more Bad Guys in town.” Willow laid her head on Buffy’s shoulder and pointed to the book. “So you’re trying to stop the First from opening the Seal of Danzalthar and letting these guys out?” Anya and Drew both nodded. “Do we even know where the Seal is?”

A throat cleared behind them. Buffy stiffened as Giles moved into view. “I’m sure it won’t be much of a surprise that we believe the Seal is in the basement of the old Sunnydale High School.”

***

Dawn shivered under her fingertips, and Faith smiled in triumph. Keeping her movements slow and gentle, Faith pulled Dawn’s T-shirt out of her pants and pushed it over her head. Dropping the shirt to the floor, she waited, checking on Dawn’s readiness.

Hard nipples pressed insistently against the thin fabric of Dawn’s bra.

Faith worked on Dawn’s pants next, letting them slither down the long legs to pool on the carpet. “Lose the shoes and step out, D; don’t want you to trip or nothing.”

That earned a giggle and a full smile. Toeing off her sneakers, Dawn kicked them and her discarded jeans away.

“Fuck, D,” Faith breathed, finally getting a good look at the younger girl. “You’re beautiful.” Hands unsteady, she reached out again, running a single finger over the lace edge of Dawn’s bra. “So beautiful.” Bending forward, she replaced her finger with her tongue, dragging it over the same area before laving Dawn’s nipples through the fabric.

Fingernails dug into her shoulders in response.

Feeling Dawn’s heart pounding under her lips, Faith smiled. “You like that?” she asked softly, not really looking for an answer. She concentrated on Dawn’s right nipple with her tongue while insistently circling the left with her fingers.

A slender leg wrapped around Faith’s waist, pulling their lower bodies tightly together.

Faith groaned at the wet heat rubbing against the bare flesh of her stomach. She wanted to go slow. She wanted to give Dawn a chance to explore.

“Faith?” Dawn’s voice drifted over her.

It took Herculean effort for Faith to lift her head. “I’m sorry.” She’d gone too fast. Pushed too far. Her muscles bunched as she tried to slide away.

Strong fingers gripped her arms and the leg around her waist tightened. “Will you stop that?” Dawn asked. “Faith, I’m fine.”

“Oh.” If Dawn wasn’t freaking… Faith shook her head. She couldn’t focus. Dawn’s body pressing against her, the smell of their joint arousal, and the Slayer’s persistent purring in her mind whirled together.

Gentle laughter sounded. “Looks like I’m going to have to show you, huh?” Dawn stepped away. Hands steadier this time, she slipped the zipper on Faith’s jeans down, pushing the heavy fabric over Faith’s hips. “I think someone warned me about the dangers of tripping.”

Faith glanced down at the jeans tangled around her boots. “Think we need to work on your technique, baby.” Her dimples appeared, and she placed her hands on Dawn’s shoulders before maneuvering to sit on the bed. Stretching her legs out, Faith lifted her feet off the floor. “Combat boots don’t slip off.”

“Damn.” Dawn glared at the offending footwear.

The look was so fierce (and so cute), Faith chuckled. “No worries, D. You were doing good. It’ll just take a second to untie them.”

Deep blues eyes met Faith’s, and she sucked in a deep breath at the need clearly visible there.

“Or we could improvise,” Faith continued faintly. Her body moved restlessly under Dawn’s look, her skin so sensitive the feel of the comforter had her close to moaning.

“What did you have in mind?” Dawn paced the two steps to the bed and climbed on, straddling Faith’s right thigh.

Faith wondered just who was leading the way now as Dawn “innocently” ground her knee into Faith’s clit. “What…what are you doing?”

“Your jeans are in the way, remember?” Dawn’s purr rumbled through Faith. Any lingering doubts about being here, being with Dawn faded when the body hovering over hers dipped and swayed, and Dawn’s cloth-covered breasts brushed her own. “Do you believe that I’m fine yet, Faith?”

Nodding jerkily, Faith panted, her nipples stiff and aching. “Yeah, D. That felt…I mean, you feel fine.”


	37. Chapter 37

“Fine isn’t good enough,” Dawn warned. “I want it all, Faith. I want amazing, hot, wild…Show me those skills I’ve heard about for so long.”

If Dawn wanted, Faith vowed to provide. Hands moving surely, Faith reached around Dawn’s back, releasing the catch on her bra. The material sagged forward. Palms caressing over soft skin, Faith slid the straps down, lifting each of Dawn’s hands from the comforter until her bra was completely off.

Ignoring the desire flaring in her own body, Faith slowly raised her head, suckling on Dawn’s right nipple.

A mix between a groan and a whimper sounded in her ear. Wetness coated her thigh as Dawn rocked against her.

“No, D. Let me do the work this time,” Faith whispered. Her hands fell to Dawn’s hips, stilling the restless motion. “Be patient, baby. I’ll get you there,” she vowed. “Sit up, D.”

Dawn did as requested, rising until she sat squarely on Faith’s thigh.

“Perfect,” Faith said, eyes worshiping the tanned and toned body hovering over her. “Remember, baby. You don’t like, we stop.” Gliding her right index finger through Dawn’s damp pubic hair, Faith teased the swollen bundle of nerves just peeking out.

She was rewarded with a jerk of slim hips, and her name springing from Dawn’s lips.

“That’s it, baby. Let me know what you like.” Faith watched Dawn intently, enjoying the play of emotions on her face. Head back, eyes closed, Dawn was flushed and panting. As Faith continued her caresses, the muscles in Dawn’s face tightened. “Feels good, don’t it, D?” Faith added a little more pressure.

“Yes.” The reply ghosted out, overshadowed by Dawn’s gasping breaths. “Faith…please…”

Smiling softly, Faith raised her head, brushing her lips over Dawn’s. “I’m here, baby. I’ve got you.” She moved her finger down, ignoring the faint whine from Dawn.

“Don’t stop,” Dawn ordered, body moving restlessly against Faith’s thigh.

“I won’t, D,” Faith promised. “Give me a second…” During the exchange, Faith’s finger slipped inside Dawn, gently stroking her inner walls. A callused thumb replaced her finger on Dawn’s clit.  “I’m not stopping until you ask, baby.”

***

“I’m surprised,” Buffy deadpanned. “How about you, Will?”

Willow rolled her eyes. “Surprised? No. Freaked? More than a little.”

Turning back to Anya and Drew, Buffy ignored Giles. “What do you have so far?” she asked intently.

“If you’d been paying attention,” Anya snapped, “you’d know we have nothing. Zip. Zero-“

Before she could rant further, Drew cut in. “There are vague warnings about the Seal and a ritual the First has to perform. We just can’t find any reference to what the ritual entails.”

It wasn’t good enough. Buffy gripped Willow’s hand tightly, trying to cage the sudden impatience causing her leg to bounce. “What can we do to-

The sharp sound of shattering glass interrupted. Everyone turned to look. “Sorry.” A skinny, young redhead blushed and waved a hand at the crowd. “It slipped out of my hand.”

***

Willow stared at the liquid dripping off the coffee table and onto the rug underneath. “Goddess, we are so stupid.” She pointed at the spill. “We didn’t tell them, Buffy. How could we not tell them?” Her voice rose with each word. Now _they_ were the center of attention.

Buffy didn’t respond out loud. Instead, her wry inner voice spoke through the link. _I admit to not being the sharpest crayon in the box, Will. What are you babbling about?_

“The dream, Buffy,” Willow answered. “Look…” she pointed at the spilled drink. “It’s like the dream.” Buffy still looked lost, and Willow pulled away, planting her hands on her hips. “Remember me and you working in the DMP?”

Finally, realization hit Buffy. Her eyes widened and she nodded. “Oh, yeah. The dream.”

A throat cleared gently. “Perhaps you would care to fill the rest of us in, Willow?” Giles smiled uncomfortably. “I wouldn’t ask if it didn’t appear you thought it might be useful.”

Tension sprang up in her link with Buffy. Willow stiffened at the impact; her eyes flickered to her wife.

Looking pale, fists clenched at her side, Buffy met her eyes.

Willow waited until Buffy nodded curtly before continuing. “Buffy and I shared a Slayer dream last night.” Had it really only been last night? Willow rubbed burning eyes. “It was weird. In the first scene, we were working at the DMP and the soda machine wouldn’t shut off. It just kept pouring out, all over my shoes.” She grinned self mockingly. “That’s why the spilled drink reminded me.”

“I didn’t know you could share those dreams.” Drew closed the book she was still holding and frowned up at Willow. “Are you sure it was a Slayer dream?”

“I’m sure,” Buffy answered brusquely. “I’ve had them before. I’ve even _shared_ them before. With Faith.”

Sounding hesitant, Giles entered the conversation. “Perhaps we could study that at a later time? I believe we need to hear about the dream now. It might help shed some light on how to defeat the First.”

Flushing, Willow took Buffy’s hand, pulling her back to the floor in front of the couch. “It’s a little fuzzy now. After the thing at the DMP, we were in Restfield and we found this axe thing.” She looked at Buffy for help.

“Not an axe, Will. A scythe.” Buffy tilted her head, brows meeting between her eyes. “You know, it was huge. It should have been heavy, but it wasn’t.”

“Ooh, ooh…it had writing on it, too. Runes, I think.” Willow bounced excitedly on the floor.

Drew leaned across the couch, digging through a pile of books next to Anya. “Do you remember _which_ runes?” She opened a book, flipped through the pages and tossed it aside before opening the next book.

“Um…” Willow looked at Buffy. “Maybe?”

“That’s better than me.” Buffy shrugged sheepishly. “I can maybe tell you what the scythe itself looked like. Why?” She watched Drew toss more books aside.

Drew didn’t answer. She mumbled to herself and finished the pile of books on the couch. “It sounds familiar. I’m sure I saw something like that while we were looking for information on the Seal. I just…I can’t find it now.”

“We’ll have you and Willow make a sketch.” Giles perched on the arm of the couch. “Go on. Tell us about the rest of the dream. After the bit in Restfield, what happened next?”

“That’s where it got really weird,” Buffy announced.

Willow chuckled.  “Yeah, because me working in the DMP wasn’t odd enough.” Buffy bumped her shoulder, a trickle of amusement traveling through their link. Despite the gravity of the situation, Willow felt happier than she had in days. This was what they were; this was their lives. Not hiding away in a cabin. She and Buffy were meant to be here, researching and talking about the latest evil in town.

Stroking the back of Buffy’s hand, she continued recounting the dream. “After Restfield, we were in a church, a Catholic church. The priest was doing one of the old Latin masses – the part where he confesses his sins and changes the bread.”

“Are you sure you and Buffy hadn’t been drinking before you went to sleep?” Anya demanded.

“Yes, Anya. You got us.” Willow threw her hands over her face dramatically. “We had that whole case of beer with dinner.”

Drew choked on a giggle, and Buffy vibrated with her own suppressed laughter against Willow’s side.

“Well, I mean…”Anya mumbled. “It’s all a little hard to believe. Some fast food restaurant, a weapon, and a Church?”

***

“Welcome to a Slayer’s head, Anya.” Buffy pushed away from Willow, her momentary amusement dying. “Ask Faith about the one we shared before Graduation – if she even remembers it.” Buffy did. The sound of Faith’s blood dripping onto the sheets blocked out the murmur of conversations in other parts of the room for a second.

“It may be strange, Buffy, but Mama says Slayer dreams always have meaning – even the parts you think are crazy.” Drew didn’t flinch when four pairs of eyes locked on her. “The thing at the DMP, the mass…they mean something. We just have to discover what.”

***

Faith gently moved a strand of hair off Dawn’s face. The bright blue eyes were closed, the soft lips opened on quiet breaths. “What did we just do, D?” she whispered to the sleeping girl. Dawn’s quiet snores were her only answer.

She couldn’t stay. Faith’s muscles twitched restlessly. The bed – and the body in it – were warm. Faith shivered as she climbed out and carefully covered Dawn with the blankets. Grabbing her discarded clothes, Faith pulled them on. She managed one step toward the door before a whisper in here ear pulled her up short.

“Don’t go,” the nearly soundless voice said.

Faith looked back at the bed. Dawn was still asleep. Frowning, Faith opened her senses. Nothing. What the hell? Shaking her head, Faith strode to the door, opening it quietly and slipping out into the hall. “Sleep tight, D,” she whispered as the door slid shut.


	38. Chapter 38

Faith crept silently down the stairs. She already missed Dawn. Rubbing her arms against a continued chill, she hit the last step – and almost screamed.

“Honeymoon over so soon?” Kirstan leaned against the adjacent wall.

“Fuck, Old Timer. Whistle or stomp your feet next time, will ya?” Faith asked, slowly straightening from the defensive crouch she’d automatically taken when Kirstan had surprised her.

Kirstan shook her head. “Sorry. You’re a Slayer. You should have felt me, heard me, even smelled me before you ever got down the stairs.”

Scowling and praying the heat in her cheeks wasn’t visible, Faith muttered, “Had things on my mind.” Her right heel bounced, tension thrumming through her. She needed out. Now.

“If you’re that distracted, shouldn’t you be back upstairs?” Kirstan’s eyes bore into her, and Faith twitched under the intense scrutiny. When Faith didn’t respond, Kirstan shifted away from the wall. “You and my new daughter-in-law are cut from the same cloth. It’s not wrong to ask for help, you know.”

“I don’t need-“ Faith growled.

A hand shot up, stopping her denial. “Maybe you really can’t see it. I can.”

“Huh?” What the hell was Kirstan talking about? “See what?” The leg bouncing grew more frantic.

“That.” Kirstan pointed to Faith’s leg.

Faith pressed her foot to the floor, stilling its motion. “I’m fine,” she lied.

“Really?” Kirstan moved closer. “Your aura is shifting so fast it’s about to make me lose my lunch. There is so much energy trying to get out, I don’t know why you haven’t exploded.”

“If you know all that, get the fuck out of the way so I can go beat up on something.” Faith flung her palms up in the air. “All you want to fucking do is talk. Weren’t you a Slayer? We don’t talk. We kill. Get with the program.”

She grinned reluctantly when Kirstan tossed back her head and laughed. “I’ll try. I’m old, though. I don’t know if I’m up to learning any new tricks.” Still chuckling, Kirstan lightly punched Faith’s shoulder. “How about I show you some of my old ones? Let’s go out to the Training Barn and we can spar.”

“Wicked.” Faith’s bouncing was more excitement then restless energy this time. “I’d ask B, but Red’s probably got her researching.” No way was she risking getting caught up in that.

She followed Kirstan outside. Shadows from the rapidly fading light darkened the path to the barn. “You and Dawn OK?” Kirstan asked casually, head back as she examined the trees lining the path.

Faith smiled wryly. “You got questions, just ask, Old Timer. Don’t pretend to be making small talk.” Lifting a hand, she ran it through her hair pensively before answering. “Yeah, we’re good. I can hear her in my head now.” The smile mutated, growing wider and freer. “She’s sleeping right now, but she knows where I am.”

As they entered the barn, Kirstan flicked on the overhead lighting. A low hum filled the air. Shucking off her over shirt and track pants, Kirstan stood in front of Faith in a sports bra and shorts. Eyeing Faith, she began stretching. “If you’re so OK with the bond, why the dramatic exit?”

“If I’d wanted dramatics, I’d have gone out the window.” Smirking at Kirstan, Faith did a little stretching of her own. Slowly windmilling her arms and rolling her neck, she tried to loosen a little of the stiffness from her earlier restlessness. “I’m not really good at the whole cuddling thing. D had me in a killer grip, and I needed to move.”

She finished swinging her arms and stepped onto the wrestling mat covering the floor. Ever since she’d seen Kirstan at the bottom of the stairs, Faith had been struggling with one question. “They had you watching the stairs, didn’t they?” she blurted out.

Kirstan didn’t answer. Giving Faith a long look, she stepped onto the mat and took a defensive stance.

They circled each other, each waiting for an opening.

Faith breathed roughly at first. Kirstan’s non-answer hit hard, and anger simmered. What the hell did Willow’s family want? She’d come back to help out. She and Buffy were starting to get over their past – even if Buffy had had to toss Faith around to get there.

A hard kick to her chin took her to the mat.

“You want to pay attention? I didn’t come out here to waste my time.” Kirstan stepped back, arms crossed.

The Slayer growled softly at the challenge. “Lucky shot, Old Timer. It’s your one freebie,” Faith snapped. Scrambling to her feet, Faith didn’t bother with conventions. Head down, she charged at Kirstan, intending to take the older woman to the mat.

Unfortunately, Kirstan stepped nimbly aside. Propelled by momentum, Faith barreled past Kirstan, skidding to a stop near the door.

“Last chance, Faith. Get serious or get out.” Kirstan was back in her ‘waiting’ pose, looking bored.

The Slayer strained for release. Gripping her self control with both hands, Faith stepped back onto the mat. This time, she consciously concentrated on smoothing out her breathing and her heartbeat. Eyes locked onto Kirstan, Faith started their circular dance again. Her world narrowed. Breathe in, shift and slide, exhale. Breathe in, watch Kirstan’s weight shift, exhale. She slowly regained some calm.

“ _They_ didn’t ask me to watch,” Kirstan finally replied as they felt each other out. “Jenny did.”

The words coincided with a spinning back kick.

Ducking, Faith dropped to the ground, barely avoiding the blow. Her calm fled, replaced by anger and bitterness. Jenny. It made a strange kind of sense. She had, after all, abandoned Faith after she heard the news about prison. As Faith let the words sink in, the Slayer fought to break free, fueled by Faith’s emotions.

Still marginally in control, Faith responded to the inner frenzy. From her prone position, she tried to sweep Kirstan’s pivot leg. She just caught the tip of Kirstan’s shoe as the retired Slayer jumped over the sweep. Kirstan didn’t go down, but her balance was off when she landed.

A howl sounded in her head, and Faith’s control began to slip. Movements speeding up, she took advantage of Kirstan’s lack of stability, sending a foot into the back of her knee. As Kirstan pitched to the floor, Faith was already on her feet. “Why? Did she think I was going to hurt Dawn?”

The question drove her anger higher. She lashed out, aiming a vicious kick at Kirstan’s ribs. Hard hands grabbed her ankle just before impact, yanking her forward and down to one knee. Faith hit the ground hard; muscles strained at the odd, near-split position.

“No,” Kirstan panted, letting go of Faith’s ankle and kipping up. “She told me after you two went upstairs that you’d need to talk after the bonding was complete.”

***

Buffy stared at the shape on the paper. “Um…It looked a lot more like an axe in the dream.” Rotating the drawing to the right didn’t help it look more like a weapon and less like a child’s art project. Neither did rotating it to the left. Rubbing her forehead, she looked at Drew. “I’m guessing this isn’t going to help you find that book.”

Drew’s carefully blank expression didn’t ease her embarrassment.

“Perhaps you could describe the scythe, Buffy?” Giles suggested. He took the drawing gently out of her hands and gave it to Willow. “Willow can work on sketching the runes.”

Gritting her teeth, Buffy nodded stiffly. “Fine.” She could see the hurt in his eyes; she wasn’t ready to forgive or forget so soon, however. “It was an axe. Not like you use to cut wood, though. It had two heads.” Closing her eyes, Buffy continued to describe the weapon from her dream. As she talked, the low hum of conversation from the room faded.

The change was so gradual, she didn’t notice it at first. When crickets started chirping and a soft breeze wafted through the room, Buffy’s eyes snapped open. She was definitely _not_ in the living room any longer. Familiar tombstones and mausoleums identified her location as Restfield Cemetery. Buffy tried to move forward. Nothing happened. Heart racing, she struggled silently and fruitlessly to change position. Glancing down, Buffy noticed the scythe clutched in her hands. The dark wood was smooth with age, slight indentations marking the places where many other hands had gripped the haft.

Moonlight glinted off the chipped, curving blades. Blue flickers of magical energy backlit the runes etched near her closed fists.

“Buffy?” Giles’ worried voice sounded in her ear.

Restfield shimmered then solidified. The air suffocated her, and Buffy sucked in labored breaths.

“Buffy!” This time the word was accompanied with a heavy hand on her shoulder.

Jerking, Buffy surged forward – onto her knees. Drew, Anya, and Giles peered at her worriedly. “What the hell was _that_?”

“That was you, having some fantasy about Willow while the rest of us are researching,” Anya cried. “I’m stuck in here while my Xander is getting sweaty building bunk beds, and you’re-“

“Good Lord, Anya, do shut up.” Giles glared at her until she slumped on the couch, pouting. Visibly taking a breath and trying to calm himself, he looked back at Buffy. “You stopped talking, Buffy, right in the middle of your description and stared at…well, at nothing. It was as if you were in a trance.”

Looking at Willow, Buffy reached for her hand. She gripped the slender fingers tightly, only relaxing when Willow squeezed her hand in return. “I was back in Restfield, holding the scythe.” Retrieving her drawing from the floor in front of Willow, Buffy held it up for the group to see. “I’d say whatever sent the original dream wasn’t happy with my artwork.”

“Kindergartners wouldn’t be happy with that artwork.” Anya had recovered from her earlier snit.

“Thank you,” Buffy said dryly. “No one ever told me my Slayer duties included still art sketching.” Releasing Willow’s hand, she stood up and paced. “There wasn’t anything new this time. It was big on the weird. Not so big on the information.”

Willow handed Buffy a notepad. “Did you see these?”

Frowning, Buffy peered at the strange symbols.

“Those are the runes I think were on the handle.” Willow flashed her full smile, the tip of her tongue peeking between her teeth. “The DMP is a better bet than art school for me, too, Buffy.”

“Great. One mystery solved.” As Buffy stared at the runes, they seemed to glow, like the ones on the scythe’s haft in her second “dream.” “That’s them,” she stated confidently. “In case I got confused, my new Sandman made them all glowy for me.” The confidence faded. “Do I even want to know what they mean?”

All her attention was on Willow, waiting for her answer.

***

“Runes aren’t prophecies, Buffy.” Willow tried to reassure Buffy. She could almost see the resignation in the clouded hazel eyes. “Witches use them like a…” she struggled for words Buffy might understand. “Like a magical shorthand. Each rune has a variety of meanings. Combining them can enhance a spell or protect something – a weapon like the axe.”

Buffy straightened a little. “So, no prophecy?”

“Nope. We are prophesy free.” Except the one about her. Willow chose not to remind Buffy of that. Plucking the pad from Buffy’s hand, Willow read the runes. “These are Germanic in origin.” She traced the first character with a finger. “Ansuz: leader or authority figure.”

Was it her imagination, or did the run seem to glow where her finger had touched?

Watching the paper more intently, she continued to the next marking. “Raioo: destiny.” The blue intensified. It wasn’t just a trick of the light. Willow felt a sudden drain on her reservoirs. She tried to pull away, to lock down the escaping magic. A wordless warning sounded in her head. Willow had to finish the rune script. Voice deepening with the force of her unintended spellcasting, Willow spoke the final rune name, “Hagalaz, testing or disaster.”


	39. Chapter 39

The blue glow spread, enveloping Willow. The room didn’t _quite_ disappear. She could still see Buffy’s worried face in front of her, hear Buffy calling her name. Wanting to reassure her wife, Willow reached out a hand. Her fingers tingled from magical energy when it touched the azure barrier. Pushing, pounding…Willow couldn’t get through.

She started to reach for the link when a new wave of energy poured from her reserves. The wall separating her from Buffy thickened.  Frustrated, Willow fought to push the magic back behind the walls she’d constructed. For a second, it almost worked.

The barrier flickered, and Buffy’s voice sounded clearly. “Will, come on-“ she called frantically.

Just as quickly, the wall was back. A new scene overlay the living room. Willow wasn’t interested in the show. Rather than pushing the magic back, she pulled in more. She decided she’d shatter the barrier with raw power. As energy filled her channels, the vision showing on the magical movie screen sharpened.

Robed figures stood around a glowing Circle. A bloody corpse was spread-eagled inside the glowing area.  Willow’s concentration faltered. The body had bleached-blond hair. She squinted, peering through the bright glow of the magical barrier. Ridged forehead, fangs. Spike?

All of a sudden, Willow didn’t want to destroy the glowing wall. The power rippling inside strengthened the shield, and the vision solidified slightly. It was Spike. His skin was marred with runes carved into his flesh. Willow ‘leaned in’ closer. Blood poured from the wounds, dripping down Spike’s sides onto the ground. No…not the ground. The floor. Willow thought it might be concrete.

The longer she looked, the more power drain she felt. She couldn’t maintain this level of power for long. Whatever had started the spell had reached deep into her internal stores. Straining for a few more details, Willow scanned the shadowed room where the rituals were being held. Boxes and shelves lined the walls. The power flow faltered. The scene faded.

Willow managed one last desperate burst of energy. It wasn’t enough. Spike, the Bringers, and the Circle were gone.

Blinking dazedly, Willow looked around her parents’ living room. None of the researchers moved. They all simply stared at her in varying degrees of surprise and worry.

“Uh, hey,” Willow mumbled, waving briefly. “I’m back.”

For a second, she thought the strange spell had frozen the room. Then a small body slammed into her and a pair of muscled arms squeezed until she squeaked.

Wiggling in the tight embrace, Willow managed a breathy, “Buffy.” The arms didn’t loosen, though. “Need…need to breathe, Buffy.”

Finally, Buffy stepped back a couple of inches. Her arms still encircled Willow, but they weren’t squeezing. “What happened? You started explaining the rune thingies and then blue light exploded around you. I couldn’t reach you.”

The room slowly came back to life as Willow slipped from Buffy’s arms and dropped onto the couch next to Drew.

***

Buffy watched Willow closely as she sat next to her sister. A frisson of fear snaked through her. Had her wife lost control of the magic again? Cursing her lack of magical knowledge, Buffy peered at their link. Everything seemed fine. Willow was simply tired and confused. “Will?” she asked again. “What happened?” Buffy dropped to her knees in front of the couch, holding Willow’s slender hands tightly.

“I’m not really sure,” came the wry response. “One minute I’m doing the Runes for Dummies Presentation and the next, I’m having an in-mind experience.” Willow stroked a thumb over Buffy’s hand. “Did you…did you feel anything while I was tranced out?”

Frowning, Buffy shook her head. “No. Should I have?” Her voice was sharp with worry.

Giles’ hand on her shoulder kept her from freaking further. “Willow, what did you see? Was there something attacking your bond with Buffy?”

“Oh, oh, no!” Willow answered immediately. Then she blushed. “Sorry, I guess the question didn’t come out right.”

Nearly trembling from a need to get up and do, Buffy said urgently, “Will, please. Tell us what happened.”

Willow’s explanation didn’t help her calm down.

“They had Spike?” Buffy realized her voice was a little loud when they were once again the center of attention. Lowering her tone, she asked again, “Was he OK?”

She flushed when Willow met her eyes. “He was bleeding, Buffy. They’d carved marks into his chest. I’m thinking no to that one.”

Green eyes bore into her, and Buffy twitched. “You know,” she mumbled, “Spike’s a friend.” An auburn eyebrow rose a little. OK, they both knew he’d been far more than that. “He’s like an honorary Scooby,” she tried again, needing to justify her earlier reaction. She didn’t want Willow to think it was anything more than concern for a friend.

Drew interrupted their staring match. “That’s probably the ritual to open the Seal,” she said. “Did you get anything that might help us find where it takes place?”

“Uh…” Willow bit her lip, and the eyebrow dropped and then met its mate as Willow frowned. “I tried to look around. It was really hard, though. Shelves, some boxes.”

Buffy leaned in, taking Willow’s hand in encouragement. “What else, Will?”

“The boxes had numbers on them. Years, I think.” Willow looked up and shrugged. “That’s it.”

A familiar throat clearing sounded behind Buffy. “Yes, Giles?” she snapped. Couldn’t he just ask the question without the sound effects?

“Yes, forgive me.” He sounded tired, and Buffy closed her eyes, ashamed of herself. “Do you perhaps remember which years, Willow? We have so little to go on. Maybe that might help us narrow the locations.”

“I think so,” Willow answered. “It was weird, though. The years weren’t listed separately. One said 1990 slash 91. And…I think another said 1986 slash 87.”

Giles sighed and moved around Buffy. Perching on the table near the couch, he rubbed the back of his neck. “Why am I not surprised?”

“You know where it is?” Drew’s excited question barely beat out Buffy’s.

“Indeed.” Smiling wryly, he looked directly at Buffy. “It sounds a great deal like the basement of Sunnydale High School.”

***

“Then she’s as fucked up as you, Old Timer. Talk?” Faith taunted. Thinking Kirstan might still be off balance, she attacked. Leaping into the air, she spun, lashing out with her right heel. For the second time in the span of minutes, a hard hand wrapped around her ankle.

Kirstan used Faith’s momentum, whipping her around before tossing her across the large room. “I’d like to think you’re just out of practice, little girl. This is pathetic.”

Panting, Faith glowered at Kirstan. “Yuck it up. Go ahead. I never claimed to be as good as B.” She scrambled to her feet, approaching the older woman with more caution this time.

“I’m glad.” The mocking tone was still there. “I’d say your Watcher didn’t know how to handle all your attitude –“ Kirstan never had a chance to finish.

The words echoed hollowly in Faith’s head, mixed with the agonized screams of her Watcher as Kakistos tortured her to death. The Slayer slipped the leash. Swinging wildly, she went after Kirstan. This time, Kirstan couldn’t avoid the blows.

The Slayer drove the cause of her host’s anguish around the room. Soon…soon she’d break through the woman’s guard. Quickening the attack, the Slayer pressed forward, and Kirstan went down. It was exactly what the Slayer had been waiting for. She dove at her target – and yelped when a booted foot slammed into her stomach.

While the Slayer tried to shake off confusion and pain, Faith resumed control. “Kirstan,” she gasped, curled on the floor, “get out. Please. I don’t want to hurt you.”

She didn’t expect the snort or the laughter. “You must have been sleeping while your Slayer tried to kill me. You _and_ she need a trainer. I have some bruises and bumps. That’s all. My fall was choreographed to suck you in.”

“Fuck.” Faith slammed a hand onto the mat under her. Kirstan had to be joking. The Slayer hadn’t been holding anything back. “Can you just stop with the crap? I already killed a couple of people. I ain’t looking to make it three,” she snapped.

“You killed humans, Faith.” Kirstan walked over and sat next to her. “Humans. I’m not human. I am,” Kirstan grimaced and corrected herself, “I _was_ a Slayer. The power may be diluted now, but I’m still way beyond your victims.”

The remaining adrenaline and anger drained away. “Way beyond me, too, Old Timer,” Faith admitted quietly.

“Why?” Kirstan asked just as softly. The taunting note was gone from her voice. “Buffy showed up here on the verge of a breakdown and still wiped the floor with me. You’re in far better condition. Why the difference in skills?”

“The Watcher you mentioned.” Faith closed her eyes. Maybe the darkness would help with this story. She’d only ever told Buffy – and even Buffy didn’t know all of it. “Well, my first one, anyway. She…” Faith coughed to clear the lump from her throat. “We hadn’t been together very long, and I wasn’t big on listening to her.”

She stopped her tale, holding very still, trying desperately to hold back the tears. The hot liquid leaked out anyway, trailing slowly down the side of her head into her hair. “Some really old vamp came after us. He killed her while I stood there.”

Strong hands gripped her shoulders. “Easy, Faith. I’m right here, little girl.”

Something broke at that. Deep inside, deeper even than her new bond with Dawn had yet reached, a wall shattered. The tears came faster and in greater numbers. “It’s my fault she’s dead,” Faith choked out. “I didn’t know how to help her, and I froze.”

Kirstan gave up holding her at a distance and pulled her into her lap, rocking them slowly.

“I ran,” Faith continued, reliving every detail in her mind. Her muscles twitched and strained as she numbly related her flight to Sunnydale and her meeting with Buffy. “B was…she was like some Slayer God. I mean, even before I’d gotten there, she was all my Watcher could talk about.”

“She’s just a Slayer, Faith,” Kirstan broke in. “Surely you know that?”


	40. Chapter 40

“Just a Slayer,” Faith echoed disbelievingly. “This time, you’re the one who ain’t paying attention. B’s more than _just_ a Slayer. She’s the oldest one ever. As far as I’m concerned, that makes her the best – even before you look at how she fights.” She stopped there, hesitating to share more.

An exasperated sigh sounded in her ear. “Talk to me, Faith. I really want to know. You obviously think Buffy is better than you. I want to know why. Why hasn’t your Slayer gone after her? Why are you so content to let her lead?”

“What do you want to know first?” Faith kept her eyes closed. She didn’t want to look at Kirstan; she didn’t want to see the disgust and disdain as she told her story.

“Take them one at a time, Faith.” The arms holding her tightened. “Why is Buffy better than you? Why are you the second best Slayer in your head?”

Faith huddled against Kirstan. Ignoring the first question, she chose what she considered the more important issue.  She had to get Kirstan to understand the truth about her. Voice rough yet firm, Faith outlined her time in Sunnydale.

“I left Boston right after the thing with Kakistos. Headed for Sunnydale and the Great Buffy Summers. I thought…I don’t know. I thought she could help me. It didn’t work out that way.” Faith felt the old bitterness and alienation knot her stomach. Skimming over the details, she ground out, “I wasn’t good enough for them, and they let me know it every day.” The words poured from her lips, harsh and angry. “The only thing I was good enough for was backing up Buffy. The Golden Girl.”

Kirstan didn’t say anything.

Wishing she could stop, Faith went on. “Buffy had everything. Everything,” she repeated explosively.  Everything she didn’t have. “Willow and Xander, Giles, a mother.”  Faith bit her lip, tasting blood. Joyce… “You know what I had?” she asked raggedly.

“What, little girl? What did you have?” Kirstan’s words were soft and encouraging.

“Some crappy room at the local flea bag motel. That’s it.” A sob broke free, tearing at her throat. “I got to ‘borrow’ Giles for a while, and Mrs. Summers invited me over for dinner once.”

Fingers combed through her hair. “It sounds like they tried to let you in.”

“No, they fucking didn’t!” Jerking against Kirstan’s hold, Faith tried to get up. She couldn’t. Kirstan was too strong…or maybe she really wanted to finally say this. “I was a fucking tool.” Faith was shaking, sobs building up inside. “I was a way to keep Buffy alive. That’s all. I got invited over for dinner at the Homestead. Mrs. S and B…all smiles and full plates. And every time Joyce looked at me, I could see it in her eyes. I was there to replace Buffy. I was there so Buffy could get out of the business. I was there to save them both from Buffy’s Calling.” By the end, she was shouting, the words echoing in the large space.

“So you didn’t have any support. Buffy and her friends treated you like something less than human,” Kirstan summed up.

“Yeah,” Faith said bitterly. “Pure Southie white trash.”

“You hated them,” Kirstan commented accurately. “Buffy most of all. That makes sense. You were the Slayer, though. The Line ran through you. Buffy was done; her time was over. Why did you play second fiddle? My Slayer would have wanted to take over, prove our dominance. You? You sat back and you took it. You never tried to knock Buffy off that pedestal.”

Dropping her head to Kirstan’s shoulder, Faith mumbled, “I did go after her.” The fight on the roof was still so clear. The hate in Buffy’s eyes as they traded blows and insults. Her own fear…The sudden realization that she _wanted_ Buffy to kill her.

“And?” Kirstan wasn’t going to let it go.

“And I lost. Big.” Faith tensed against the phantom knife slicing through her abdomen. Sweat beaded her hairline, and she trembled against Kirstan. “I almost made Buffy a killer like me.”

Kirstan stroked warm hands up and down her back. “Take your time, little girl, and tell me the whole story.”

Laughing reluctantly, Faith told Kirstan, “That would take a while. I’ll give you the Readers Digest version.” Nervously opening and closing her hands, she started, “I got tired of playing by the rules.” That wasn’t right. “I got tired of Buffy always playing by the rules,” Faith corrected.  “She needed to cross the line, play on the wild side. So I took her out, and I showed her how to live my kind of life.”

A ghostly echo of shattering glass filled her mind, and shadows of her and Buffy slipped into the sporting goods store.

“We were riding the rush,” Faith forced herself to go on. The images continued to roll in her mind – Buffy laughing at something she’d said then turning serious as the vampires appeared in front of them. A trickle of the excitement from that long ago fight sped up her heart beat. “Two Slayers, on top of the world…and then I fucked up. I staked a vamp that wasn’t a vamp. He was human. Deputy Mayor Allen Finch.” Nausea surged and the copper smell of blood invaded her senses. She could _feel_ that blood pouring over her hands.

When she fell silent, Kirstan rocked them for a few minutes. “You do know you aren’t the only Slayer to make that mistake?”

Mistake. That was the heart of the problem. “Now, sure. At the time, all I knew was that the Council wanted to ‘rehabilitate’ me and my new Watcher thought I was out of control and a murderer.” Wesley’s disapproving face replaced the sight of the darkened alley in her mind.

“So you hit first and asked questions later?” Kirstan didn’t sound shocked.

“Yeah.” Faith’s lips twisted in a bitter smile. “I didn’t care. That’s what I kept telling everybody – including myself. I was a Slayer. One human was jack against all the vamps and demons I killed.”

Silence descended in the Training Barn as they both absorbed that sentiment.

“Finch was one.” Kirstan’s voice broke the stillness. “You said two earlier. Who was the second, and why?”

Faith stiffened. No. No way was she talking about the professor.

“Tell me, Faith,” Kirstan ordered. “You’ve been running from this for years. I don’t know the story; we don’t have any history. Tell me what happened.”

The tears started up again, burning a path down Faith’s cheeks. “After…after I got away from the Council guys, I tried to run. Leave Sunnydale and Slaying. B found me. She talked me into staying, but…” The memory was so real in her mind that Faith could smell the salt in the air and hear the slap of the waves against the dock. Regret filled her.  “I wasn’t coming back to be her backup. I wanted to hurt her, hurt all of them. And I was so fucking tired of being second best. I cut a deal with the newest power broker – the Mayor – and went undercover as a Recovering Slayer.”

She felt Kirstan’s chest expand on a deep breath. “Why did he need a Slayer? How did he even know what one was?”

Right for the jugular. Wincing, Faith tried to burrow into Kirstan. “The Mayor wanted to be a demon.” It sounded far less terrible than it had actually been. “I wasn’t even good at the spy business, though. The Gang found out what I was doing eventually. Figured out what the Boss was up to.” Her muscles cramped from the tension and her words picked up speed. She couldn’t keep telling this. She had to just get to the point. Skipping the play by play, Faith confessed, “There was this old guy at the college. He knew something, or the Boss thought he did.”

“You killed him to keep him quiet.” Kirstan’s hands continued to stroke over Faith’s back. “How did you feel? After you killed him?”

Stomach churning, Faith swallowed back the rush of bile. “Amazing. Powerful.” The truth filled her with soul-destroying shame now.

“And your Slayer?” The soft voice poked and prodded at the memories as Kirstan forced Faith to confront the past.

“Went crazy.” Not even Angel knew this part. He’d never asked about how she’d felt after the murder. “Every second, all I heard was howling in my head.” Little by little, that primal voice had pushed her to the edge. “By the time me and B squared off, I wanted her to kill me.”

Lips pressed against the top of her bent head. “She didn’t.”

They’d come full circle. Faith slowly pulled away from Kirstan. “No. She came fucking close, though. Stuck a knife in my gut.” This time, there was no imaginary blade cutting into her. “I wouldn’t let her do it. I jumped off the roof.”

***

“Of course,” Buffy said immediately. “Why didn’t we think of that? An opening to Hell right under our alma mater.”

Giles simply looked at her, blue eyes red rimmed and steady.

Flushing, Buffy dropped her eyes. “Sorry, Giles,” she mumbled. “Why do you think it’s the school?”

“Beside the fact I remember those shelves and the boxes of student records from my time there, we have all forgotten that there _is_ in fact a gateway to Hell beneath the school.” Giles’ voice was wry. “All of our books and treatises…we have made the search far more complex than needed.”

Buffy rubbed the back of her neck. “We know where. We know how – Spike’s blood. Any takers on when?” She felt the first glimmer of excitement under the strain. They were finally getting answers. Soon, the sitting would be over and the doing would start.

“Soon.” Drew grinned her almost-Willow grin. “The First needs the Turok Han. They’re his shock troops. Since he doesn’t have form, he isn’t much of a threat beyond head games.”

A theatrical sigh sounded from Drew’s left. “Idiots. You’re all idiots,” Anya announced.

Buffy saw Drew blush brightly at the criticism.

“How many Potentials are there, Giles? A hundred? Two? More?” Anya demanded, not actually giving him a chance to answer. “How many are here?”

Buffy didn’t know the answer to any of those questions. When she glanced at Giles, she didn’t _want_ to know the answers.

“Perhaps a dozen,” Giles finally answered. He moved away long enough to appropriate a nearby chair. Dragging it back to their location, he sat down. “There should easily have been a hundred times that, along with their Watchers.”

***

“Where…where are the rest?” Willow rapidly did the math. Twelve Potentials out of over a thousand.

Giles’ smile wasn’t reassuring. “I believe Anya was attempting to say the First is already a threat, even without the Turok Han.”

“Maybe they’re just having trouble getting here,” Willow tried desperately. They couldn’t have lost so many. They’d been trying to protect the Potentials; if Giles was right, they’d failed.

Buffy gripped her hand. “No, Will. There aren’t any more. Just the ones already here.” Lifting their joined hands, she brushed her lips across Willow’s knuckles. “You know it. We all know it, no matter how much we want to pretend.”

“Then we have to stop the First before he opens the Seal,” Drew said. “How do we do that?” Willow heard the undercurrent of panic in her voice. Her sister wasn’t dealing well with the new information. “We don’t even know when the ritual will be.”

“We don’t have to know.” Avoiding Buffy’s eyes, Willow went on, “The First is using Spike to help open the Seal.” Help wasn’t the right word, but Willow didn’t expand on that. “All we have to do is find Spike.”


	41. Chapter 41

“Why would we want to find Spike?” Willow winced at the tight sound in Buffy’s voice. She could feel all of Buffy’s questions and suspicions pressing at her through their link. Buffy was definitely _not_ happy with her idea.

Ignoring all of that, Willow went on. “If the First needs Spike to open the Seal, we have two options.” She took a deep breath, glancing quickly at Buffy. Willow almost whimpered. This was going to be so bad. “One: we find Spike and follow him. He leads us to the First, and we stop the Ritual. No Turok Han.”

Buffy didn’t relax. She must have felt Willow’s tension. “That sounds fine.” She sat back on her heels and stroked Willow’s hand. “I’m sure I…we can find Spike.” Smiling slightly, Buffy went on, “Maybe we can talk to him. Explain what we need. That way, we don’t have to sneak around or anything.”

“Maybe.” Scanning the other members of their small group, Willow looked for help. There was none.

Drew didn’t have a clue. She looked just as eager to try Option One as Buffy.

Willow tried Giles next. He managed to meet her eyes. However, Willow didn’t think he would risk another argument with Buffy. Not over Spike.

Before Willow could scare herself with thoughts of considering Anya as a way out, Buffy probed further. “You don’t think it will work, do you?” she demanded. “Why? What aren’t you telling me, Will?”

Bracing for the explosion, Willow murmured, “It’s a good plan, Buffy. It has problems, though.” She saw Buffy open her mouth and rushed on. “Spike wasn’t a willing part of the ritual, Buffy. He was hurt and bleeding. I don’t think he’d be able to pass on any information. We aren’t trying to get Spike to go undercover. We just need to stop the Seal from opening.”

“What are you saying, Willow?” Buffy demanded. “You still aren’t telling me everything.”

When Buffy’s mental touch on the link grew more insistent, Willow caved. “If all Spike had to do was sneak in and relay information, we ask him for his help. Have him call us with whatever he found out. That’s not what’s happening. Spike can’t help us.”

Drew leaned in, and Willow held her breath, praying she wouldn’t add fuel to the near-argument. “Then what’s the other option?”

Glaring at Drew, Willow tried to avoid the question. “Look, let’s not blow this out of proportion until we know more. Like…like why the First is using Spike and not some other vampire.”

It wasn’t enough.

“What’s the second option?” Buffy asked. The soothing feeling of her hands was gone. Her fingers dug into Willow’s painfully.

There was no good way to say this.

“We find Spike, and we kill him.” The words were soft, yet they didn’t lose any of their blunt impact despite the lack of volume.

***

Buffy was on her feet instantly. “No way. Why would we kill Spike?” She stared at Willow, trying to read the muddied emotions through their bond. She couldn’t. There was too much swirling there. All she got was…a sharp stab of regret and a chill of fear – all of it Willow’s. What was Willow afraid of? Spike? Or… _Me?_

“Buffy, you’re missing the point.” Giles’s quiet voice did nothing to calm Buffy. Quite the opposite, in fact.

She turned on him. “I wasn’t talking to you,” Buffy growled. Hands balled into fists, she dared him to continue.

He accepted the silent challenge. Face flushed, Giles stood and took a small step in her direction. “Perhaps not. However, the fact remains that you are once again acting out of simple emotion rather than considering the situation logically.”

Buffy flinched from his look of disappointment. She’d seen it so many times. And…as much as she hated to admit it, Giles was generally right about her rushing off without thinking things through. Maybe he was right this time, too. Maybe they didn’t have to kill Spike. Slowly, she sank back to the floor.

“Willow only postulated we might need to kill Spike.” Giles rubbed the bridge of his nose before continuing. “If we look at what we know of the ritual, I would say there is no way we can even begin to determine our course of action. Not until we have researched further.”

It was his standard answer. Buffy clenched her hands on her knees to avoid making another scene. She needed more. She needed someone to tell her there would be no Spike dust on her hands. “What do you suggest?” she asked almost sullenly.

She had to get out of here, talk to Willow without an audience. Buffy hated not being skilled enough to decipher what she was reading through the bond.

“We need to know more about the ritual itself. Obviously, the First is using Spike’s blood to unlock the Gate. Why Spike? Is he significant?” Giles looked at her and smiled encouragingly. “If not, if it is not Spike’s blood specifically, eliminating him will serve no purpose. The First could simply choose another vehicle.”

Shooting Willow a look, Buffy wanted to shout, _See? We don’t need to kill another one of my ex-lovers._ She didn’t. Willow was hunched next to Drew, the picture of misery. Buffy turned around, sitting with her back pressed to Willow’s legs and looked up at Giles. “More research. Got it.”

No one jumped in with more.

Buffy nearly growled. _Come on, people. Why am I always the one making decisions? Everyone is good at suggesting…No one ever decides, though. Except me._ “Anya, can you and Willow work on this part? Finding out whether Spike is some kind of key or if any vampire will do? The rest of us will try digging up more on the reference Drew found to the Scythe.”

A light, questioning touch brushed her mind, and Buffy pressed back into Willow’s legs.

 _We’re OK, Will. I just…I think it’s better I’m not mixed up in the Spike part of this._ Rubbing her cheek against Willow’s knee, she let the touch work through her. _I don’t want this to be a problem for us, you know?_ she pleaded silently.

Aloud, Buffy told her troops, “Let’s get to work, folks. No attacks since this morning plus funky visions makes for a nervous Buffy. Something’s going to come after us soon. We need to be ready.”

***

“Would you do it again?” Kirstan asked. She pulled away, sitting Faith on the floor in front of her and leaning her elbows on her knees.

Faith rubbed at her eyes. They burned, and tears still spilled over occasionally. “Do what? Jump off a building?”

The lame joke fell flat. Kirstan’s lips pressed together, and she glared back.

“Depends on what you’re asking, Old Timer,” Faith mumbled.

“I want to know, Faith, are you the same person you were back then? Do you still hate Buffy? Want to hurt her? Kill her?” Kirstan fired off.

Shrugging, Faith started to answer.

Before she could, a new voice joined the conversation. “She’s not the same person,” Dawn announced firmly.

Faith’s head snapped around. How had Dawn gotten in without her knowing?

“Is this a private discussion? I hope not. I hate getting left out of the good stuff.” There was a definite edge to Dawn’s comment.

Smirking, Faith glanced up and saw the hint of a scowl on Dawn’s face.

 The look stayed in places as Dawn dropped onto the floor. She wrapped an arm around Faith and pulled her in closer.

“D-“ Faith wiggled and tried to sit up. The arm around her tightened in a definite no.

Dawn kissed her cheek. “Answer Kirstan’s question, Faith. She’s still waiting...” 

 _So am I_ , Faith knew she meant.

“… and I’d like to get breakfast before we all get grey.” Her fingers dug lightly into Faith’s side in encouragement.

Relaxing slowly, Faith closed her eyes again and considered her response. What she found inside surprised her. “B’s safe.” She grinned. “From me anyway. I wouldn’t be so sure about Red if B steps outta line.”

“Satisfied?” Dawn asked, and Faith wasn’t sure to whom the question was directed.

“Not really.” Kirstan picked up the conversational ball. “Why the change? You’ve been out of prison…a week? You’ve seen Buffy face to face maybe twice, and one of those times you got your ass handed to you by her Slayer. We’re about to face the First Evil. I don’t want to lose because you and Buffy can’t get over the past.”

Faith felt Dawn stiffen against her. She ran a hand along one of Dawn’s thighs. “Easy, D. I’ve got this one.” She waited until she was sure Dawn wasn’t going to explode before answering Kirstan. “It ain’t like it was, Old Timer.”

Opening her eyes, she met Kirstan’s intense green ones. “How?” Kirstan bluntly inquired.

“B’s getting out of the business.” Dawn’s lips brushed Faith’s hair, and she smiled. Nice. Letting the desire slowly uncurl inside, Faith kept talking. “I don’t think she’s going to follow in your footsteps, though. I think she’s out for good. That means I got maybe a week to pick up everything I can from her. You haven’t seen the whole Buffy Experience. Just wait. When the First comes calling, you’ll all be hopping when B says, ‘Jump.’”

“I’ve seen you operate. It’ll take more than a week to get you ready.” Kirstan stood up, brushing off the seat of her pants.

Faith followed her upright. Hands opening and closing nervously, she waited until the older woman looked her way. “Think you could fill in the gaps?” Feeling like a little kid begging for someone to just “watch me do this,” Faith waited for Kirstan’s reply.

A large, strong hand extended between them.

Slowly, Faith reached out. Her damp palm slid across Kirstan’s much drier one, and she gripped the fingers firmly.

The grip shifted. Faith stumbled forward in surprise when Kirstan pulled her into a tight embrace. “Wake up and smell the sweat, little girl. I’ve already started filling in the gaps. I don’t just chase everyone around the Training Barn. Only the special people.”

Blinking against the sudden moisture in her eyes, Faith allowed herself the luxury of returning the hug for a second. Then she stepped back, shoving her hands deep in her pockets. “Careful there, Old Timer. Kinda sounding like a bad Prince flashback. Gonna be talking about fucked up dreams or some shit real soon.”

Kirstan’s snort merged with Dawn’s giggles.

Grinning, Faith reached down to help her laughing girlfriend off the floor. “Huh, missed that sound while I was in the joint, D.”

“You didn’t miss too much of it.” Dawn started for the door, linking their fingers. “My sister has mutated into some kind of Joy Sucking Demon. I’m hoping Willow can loosen her up a little bit.”

“Think that’s a given.” Faith bumped her shoulder. “You do remember them all cuddly and shit in that guest house. Thought _I_ was gonna blush from the vibes they were putting off.”

Kirstan shook her head. “Slow _and_ clueless.” She smirked when Faith looked at her with a raised eyebrow. “You and Dawn have the same vibe, little girl. Everyone’s going to be snickering until all of you learn to lock down the bonds a little.”

“Let ‘em laugh. They might even learn something along the way.” Faith winked at Kirstan then stopped abruptly in the path.

“What the hell is that?” Kirstan froze, too, and Faith felt her reaching out with her Slayer senses.

She let go of Dawn and moved next to Kirstan. “Relax, Old Timer. The cavalry just rode in. That’s Fang and his crew. Looks like you’re about to meet your first good vampire.”

Dawn grumbled as they resumed the trek to the house. “Damn it. Angel has lousy timing. I was looking forward to breakfast.”


	42. Chapter 42

“You sure got that Slayer stomach from B,” Faith teased. She took Dawn’s hand and pulled her off the path leading to the kitchen. “Come on, Old Timer. We need to greet the new arrivals before one of the Potentials or your girl tries to stake the Big Guy.”

She grinned when Kirstan shot her a dark look. “The only good vampire is a dusted one.”

“Told B that the first time I met her.” Her senses sang again as Faith continued through the grass. “Don’t think you want to make the same mistake. She may not be all moony over him like before, but Fang’s got a big place in her heart. You push too hard, you may get another lesson in why B’s the number one Slayer.”

Dawn’s breath tickled Faith’s neck as she joined the conversation. “You don’t think there’ll be a problem? With the new Willow thing?”

Faith stopped abruptly. “Fuck. I didn’t think of that.” She flicked a glance at Kirstan. “Why don’t you go inside and make sure nobody has a twitchy trigger finger? Me and D’ll make sure the AI guys know the score.”

Kirstan nodded slowly. “Should I…plan for anything else?”

“Like Red turning Angel into the only vamp frog?” Faith shook her head. “Nah. I’m pretty sure he’ll be cool.” A sudden knot in her stomach indicated the lie in that statement. Angel had been struggling recently. She remembered the nightmarish trip through his memories just a few days ago. Would Buffy and Willow – together – drive him back to that edge?

“Right.” The mocking edge to Kirstan’s voice indicated she wasn’t convinced of Faith’s belief. “I’ll get Jenny,” she met Faith’s eyes, “and we’ll be back in a few minutes. Talk fast, little girl. We don’t need another major power expenditure right now. Melted rocks and landscape aside, Willow’s powers should be focused on the First – not Buffy’s ex-boyfriend.”

Nodding tightly, Faith acknowledged the warning. “Let’s pick up the pace, D. Cordy’s gonna be whining about the drive and the new apocalypse. We have to get her to shut up long enough to deliver the news.”

She maintained her grip on Dawn’s hand as they sprinted the length of the large house and into the circular driveway. Three black panel vans lined the gravel.

"Did they bring an army?” Dawn whispered. “I thought it was just Cordy, Wes, and Angel.”

Before Faith could answer, the passenger door to the nearest van popped open. “I’m not hauling all the supplies in myself, ladies. Grab a box or a crate. Just because I’m Angel’s glorified secretary doesn’t make me part of the moving crew.” Cordelia slid out of the van and stretched. “And, just so we’re clear, the next big emergency better be in LA. I swore I’d never come back to Sunnydale and this is way too close.”

Faith laughed. “I was just telling D you’d be all happy and shit from the trip.” Then she sobered, peering at the other vans. “Where’s Fang? I got some news he needs to hear before the rest of the family shows up.” Probably with stakes and spell books in hand.

She got a long look in response. “He’s up front in the lead van. You know men. They have to feel like they’re in charge.” Cordelia spun on one sandaled heel and marched toward the first parked van.

“You want me to do this?” Dawn asked softly as they followed. “I mean, the last time Angel saw me, I was just a kid.”

Faith had to bite her lip to keep from snorting at that. Dawn was still a kid.

“I’m sure he won’t go all Evil Vampire on the cute little sister of his ex-girlfriend.” Dawn’s hand tightened around Faith’s. “Right?”

Sighing, Faith shrugged. “I don’t know, D. None of us put this in the equation when we called for help. Let me handle it, though,” she warned, glaring up into Dawn’s eyes. “Me and Fang – we got a connection.”

Dawn’s blue eyes narrowed.

“Fuck. Not like that, D. Me and Fang speak the same language, that’s all.” She brushed her lips over Dawn’s almost pouting ones.

“Faith,” Angel’s quiet voice interrupted their kiss. “Is this the news you needed to share?”

Looking quickly up, Faith caught a hint of a smile on Angel’s pale lips. He sat crouched in the back of his van, well away from the last few rays of evening sunlight. Faith wrapped her arm around Dawn and shook her head. “Wish it was, Big Guy. Me and Dawn are way down on the list.”

“Buffy?” Angel probed, eyes suddenly intent. “I thought Willow wasn’t telling us everything when she called.”

Mentally cursing his intuition, Faith rocked on her heels and tried to come up with a good way to break the news.

She forgot about Dawn.

“Buffy’s fine, Angel. Really.” Slipping out of Faith’s grasp, Dawn leaned against the heavy vehicle.

Faith grabbed at her. “D, what the fuck are you doing?” She tried not to sound panicked and kept a close eye on Angel and his forehead.

“I’m helping, Faith.” Dawn didn’t sound at all concerned.

Eyes intent and bouncing between them, Angel pressed for more. “Guys, will one of you just tell me what’s going on?”

“Sure, Angel.” Faith’s use of his name alerted Angel to the seriousness of the conversation, and Faith flinched when he looked at her. “You..ahh…you just need to know there’s been some changes in the Scooby groupings.” Faith meant to just cut to the chase. The longer Angel looked at her, however, the harder it got to simply blurt it out.

Dimly, the sound of car doors opening and closing and footsteps moving in their direction filtered into her consciousness.

Faith ignored them and focused on telling Angel what he needed to know. “B’s got a new love interest.”

“Who?” Angel demanded brusquely. “Not that Riley character again.”

“No,” Faith rushed to explain. “Even B ain’t that stupid.”

 

***

Giles was the first to move. “Shall we carry the books to one of the tables, Buffy, or would you prefer to work here?”

“I’d prefer to leave _you and the books_ here and go find Faith,” Buffy muttered, climbing to her feet. She unbent enough to smile at his raised eyebrow. “Yeah, yeah. Like that’s going to happen.” Peering at the stacks of books made the decision easy. “We stay. Will and Anya go.”

She held out her hand to help Willow off the couch.

Willow allowed the light tug and then retained a tight grip on her fingers once she was erect. “I’m going to recruit Mama and Tara for this. I know Faith has them working on the perimeter, but the perimeter is pointless if the First opens the Seal.”

“Sounds good, Will.” Buffy brushed her lips over Willow’s cheek. Just that slight contact sent a warm current through the bond. They were going to be fine. Busy, scared, tired…and fine. “Let’s pull in all the new kids, too. Kennedy can play messenger between the research groups. I don’t want to find the same information more than once. Spread the rest of the Potentials and their Watchers out. Spike, the Scythe, anything on the First. All outside work and training is done until we have a game plan.”

“Got it, sweetie.” Willow gave a bright smile and hurried out of the room.

Buffy watched her go, only their link helping with the sudden feeling of loss. She pushed that back. It was time to get to work. “Where do we start, Drew?” Turning to the carbon copy of her wife, she got down to business.

“Here.” Waving a hand at the books strewn on the couch and the floor, Drew met Buffy’s eyes. “I can’t remember which one.”

That wasn’t good. There were a lot of books, and they were running out of time. Grinding her teeth, Buffy held back a grumpy comment. Drew’s eyes were heavily shadowed and dark bruises marred the skin under them. “It wouldn’t be crunch time without a lot of bookwork. I’ll take…” she grabbed the first book on the nearest pile and read the title, “Ancient Rituals of the Demon World.” She dropped back to the floor.

Fanning the pages and examining the information with an experienced eye, Buffy quickly decided the book was useless. She set it aside and noted Giles was already working on his second tome. Drew was much slower. Buffy remembered those days – and the intent, worried look on the familiar face.

“You doing OK, Drew?” she inquired. Not wanting to spook Willow’s sister, Buffy kept her eyes on the new book in her hands. More pages flipped by. More useless information was revealed.

“I’m good.” Drew’s words weren’t reassuring. “I just…you know…Kinda freaky about the First and all the bad guys, and I…uh…well…”

God, the babble was genetic. Biting her lip and trying hard not to laugh, Buffy commented, “If you weren’t…OK, I mean, we’d understand.”

She saw Drew straighten from her slouch on the sofa. “We don’t have time for me to be anything except fine, Buffy.”  Her voice, so eerily similar to Willow’s, grew shrill. “There are _things_ attacking the house and some vampire who you seem to know and care about is ready to open a gate into Hell.”

Reaching out, Buffy put her hand on Drew’s knee. She could feel the other girl trembling. “Drew, there are always things attacking. This house or someone else’s; it doesn’t matter. They are still there.” She met the wide and wild green eyes above her. Those eyes…she remembered them. They’d often peered at her from across the research table in the old Sunnydale High School. They were Willow’s eyes.  “It’s what we do. You’re a Potential Slayer and a witch. This is your destiny, too. Watch and learn.” Buffy hated having to be so cruel. Hated to do to Drew what Giles and the Council had done to her. They’d have to make the time for a gentler approach. Voice softer, she continued, “And when things get too much, you find one of the Scoobies and you vent.”

Tears glimmered on Drew’s face. “OK.”

Still watching Drew, Buffy slowly exchanged books again.

A cold, cramping chill twisted her stomach.

Drew’s head came up, and Buffy saw the awareness in her eyes as well.

“Giles, find Kirstan and Jenny. Angel’s here.” Buffy tossed the book aside and stood in one fluid move. “Hurry. I don’t want him to get dusted when one of the new kids tries to get her first kill.” She started for the door and saw Kirstan enter the room. “Never mind, Giles. Looks like Kirstan’s on top of this.”

Kirstan heard her. “Actually, Faith has us all beat. She’s outside with Angel now.” Buffy didn’t like the intent look she received from the older Slayer. “She seems to think there might be trouble.”

“Then let’s get out there and keep it from happening.” Buffy didn’t bother looking for a weapon. She charged past Kirstan and out the door. When she exploded from the house, the large porch was already filled with people. Shoving her way through the gaping crowd, Buffy ended her journey next to Willow.

She peered over Willow’s shoulder, automatically taking her hand. Thanks to her enhanced hearing, she picked up the soft conversation between Faith and Angel. What the hell was Faith doing, talking about the new Scooby pairs? Buffy took a step forward as Riley’s name popped up in the exchange.

“No,” Buffy heard Faith exclaim in response to Angel’s question. “Even B ain’t that stupid.”

Still striding toward the van, Willow trailing behind, Buffy snapped, “Gee, Faith. Thanks for that.”


	43. Chapter 43

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have no excuse for failing to update except for a hellishly bad case of real life. Does anyone have a cure for that?

Faith spun to look at her. “Hey, B. Didn’t mean nothing by that.” Her dimples popped out. “It was almost a compliment.”

“Some compliment,” Buffy said dryly. Looking past Faith’s shoulder, she nodded at Angel. “Hey, Angel. Thanks for coming. We can really use the help.” She moved up to the side of the van. “We’ve got real trouble.”

Angel didn’t respond. His eyes zeroed in on her hand – and the way it held Willow’s.

Buffy saw his nostril’s flare, too. Suddenly, she realized what trouble Faith had been anticipating, and why the other girl had rushed out to talk to Angel. Letting her fingers slip from Willow’s, Buffy stepped in front of her wife and met Angel’s eyes. “Angel?” It wasn’t a question; it was a softly spoken warning. Buffy didn’t care how he felt about her new relationship. This was business. If he couldn’t – or wouldn’t – let go of the past, she’d make sure he wasn’t a threat.

“Oh, thank God.” Cordelia’s voice interrupted the staring match. “I thought I’d have to beat you off Angel with a big stick. Who knew I’d ever be grateful for Willow.” She jostled Buffy as she climbed into the van and sat leaning against Angel’s side. “I told you she’d be fine with us, you big broody goof.”

***

Angel and Cordy? Willow tried to make sense of that concept. It got harder when Angel turned his head and smiled tenderly at Cordelia. Angel didn’t smile, tenderly or otherwise.

She shoved that aside when she felt Buffy stiffen and green sparks lit her link with Buffy.

“You and Angel?” Buffy demanded harshly. “Are you kidding?”

Willow reached out and gripped Buffy’s hand. Tightly. “Congratulations,” she said, directing the comment at the two now staring in shock at Buffy. “When we aren’t facing certain death and the end of the world, I want to hear all the details.”

 _Snap out of it, Buffy._ The dual conversation was difficult. Head pounding with the strain, Willow worked on staying supportive of her wife. This wasn’t the time to argue about Buffy’s lingering feelings for Angel…or Spike. _We have work to do. Be glad we don’t have a fight on our hands over ‘us.’ More than that,_ Willow refused to give Buffy an inch, _be happy for Angel._

The bright flare of Buffy’s jealousy dimmed. However, it didn’t disappear completely. It gathered around their internal conduit, glowing sullenly.

“Oh, do I have details.” Cordelia seemed unaware of the emotions swirling around their small grouping. “Too bad the Higher Powers have been beaming messages into my head. Do you know how irritating it is to be in the middle of a conversation and get a vision? It can take me hours to get back to normal.”

 _Define normal_ , Willow almost said. Instead, she smiled slightly. “Why don’t you and the rest of the crew come inside? There are a lot of new faces, Angel. I want to make sure they know who you are and that stakes need to be somewhere else around you. Then Cordy can fill us in on her visions.”

“Just one problem with that, I’m afraid.” Angel gestured to the slight shadows cast by the setting sun. “I’m going to be a little toasty if we go right now. Can you get everyone else settled? I’ll come in as soon as it’s safe.”

Responding to a need to show both Buffy and Angel that she was the superior choice, Willow shook her head. “Don’t worry about that. I’ve got you covered.”

“Will,” Buffy said. Willow heard a note of warning and uncertainty in her voice. “You can’t-“

“Get ready, Angel. I’ll let you know when I’m ready,” Willow said over Buffy’s comment.

Letting her external sight fade, Willow keyed open the gates to her reservoir. Raw power poured through the channel she’d carved through the thick walls of the barrier. Gathering the magical energy between her hands, Willow hardened and shaped it. A thin blue bubble formed and grew as she blew more magic into it. When it was the right size, Willow turned her head and fused her inner and outer vision.

Angel appeared through a haze of power. “Get out of the van.” She smiled in satisfaction at his look of wide-eyed astonishment at her accomplishment.

He and Cordy scrambled out. The bubble surrounded Angel the second he was in range of the fading sunlight.

“Move slowly, please. I have to make sure your protection stays with you,” Willow instructed the pair.

In a tight grouping, they made their way up to the porch. The crowd hurriedly parted for them.

Angel stopped at the threshold of the patio door. “Willow…”

Still needing to demonstrate her power, Willow let him stand there, barred from entering, for a long minute

***

Behind Willow, Buffy felt her wife’s glee at Angel’s dilemma through their link. _Issues much, Will?_ she asked silently.

Willow’s chagrin colored the conduit a pulsing pink.

 _Get him inside, baby. Then can you cut back on the chest beating?_ Buffy blew a kiss through their connection, cooling the heat of Willow’s blush. _You don’t need it. I know I acted like an ass when Cordy spilled her secret. I’m over it. I promise_.

“Go on in, Angel. You have my permission,” Willow said softly, only an edge of her satisfaction showing in the tone.         

Angel moved forward into the house, and Buffy kissed Willow again in thanks.

The shimmering blue bubble surrounding Angel dissipated. “Um…thanks, Willow.” Angel strode toward the center of the cluttered living room.

Slayers, Watchers, and witches poured into the room as well.

Buffy noticed more than a few stakes clutched in teenaged hands, and her Slayer senses indicated there were magical weapons at the ready, too.

“Angel,” she called out, hurrying in his direction, “meet the new and much larger Scooby Gang.” Waving a hand at the crowd, she started the introductions. They took a while to complete. As she spoke, Buffy took a head count. Twelve Potentials, six Watchers, Kirstan and Jennifer, Drew, Tara, Dawn and Faith, Xander and Anya, Giles, plus herself and Willow.  

When she finished, Angel smiled at the gathered Scoobies. “Thanks for inviting us. We wouldn’t know what to do with ourselves if the world wasn’t ending again.”

There were a few chuckles.

“Let me introduce my additions to the New Gang.” Four people joined Angel in the middle of the room. “Cordelia. She’s our Seer.”

Anya’s strident voice broke in. “You will not look at her, Xander. You are with me, now.”

The rest of her words were cut off by the hand Xander plastered over her mouth. “Sorry. She gets like that when hot women show up.” He grinned and winked at Cordelia. “Looking good, Queen C. Glad you could make it.”

“What else was I going to do? My nails?” Cordelia buffed her nails on her shirt and peered at them before wrapping an arm around Angel.

The message was clear. Anya didn’t have anything to worry about. Buffy went back to examining the rest of Angel’s crew. The tall black man, Gunn, looked ready for a fight. Fred was a Texas-bred version of Willow.

Then Angel turned to the whiskered, jeans-clad man to his right. “I’m sure some of you remember Wesley Wyndham-Price.”

“That’s Wes?” No way. Buffy took a few steps forward. “Did someone give him a personality transplant?” The last time she’d seen him, he’d been clean-shaven and…well… Wesley.

“Hello, Buffy. So nice to see you again.” The familiar half-smile appeared on his face. “I apologize if this isn’t what you expected.”

For just an instant, his British accent and the clipped words convinced Buffy the change in her former Watcher was cosmetic. Looking into his cool, contact-lens covered eyes convinced her otherwise. This was definitely not the pompous and ineffective Wesley she’d known. This Wesley was a warrior and unafraid of the coming battles.

“Glad to have you back on the team.” Buffy nodded at him before taking a seat in one of the armchairs. “Get comfortable, everybody. Cordy has some news from the PtB. Once she fills us in, we’ll hand out new assignments.”

***

Faith leaned against Dawn and watched Buffy take control. She was glad not to be in charge anymore. Or…was she?

“Regretting the change of command, baby?” Dawn’s question echoed her thoughts so closely, Faith wondered briefly if Dawn was reading her mind.

“Ain’t sure, D,” she answered softly as Buffy ceded the floor to Cordelia. “It was a lot of work, and I was a fucking basket case when B was on her vacation. Kinda hard to go back to being the backup Slayer, though.”

Warm lips brushed hers. “You say that again, and I’ll have Willow teach me how to magically tie your ass to the bed. Got it?”

Faith chuckled, though the Slayer wanted to carry Dawn to the bedroom for a demonstration.

“Excuse me,” Cordelia snapped, “is there something you’d like to share with the rest of the class?”

Barely glancing away from Dawn, Faith answered, “Depends, Queenie. How do you feel about a little slap and tickle?”

“That’s quite enough!” Giles interjected.

This time, Faith did look up. Glasses off, Giles patted his pockets in search of a handkerchief. She grinned. Some things never changed.

Cordelia used his comment to get back to her tale. “Anyway, as I was saying before _some people_ interrupted, I had a vision in LA.” She paused, probably for dramatic effect, Faith thought. “The First is going after Spike. It needs him to open the Seal of Danzalthar.”

What the fuck? Faith straightened, and she felt Dawn go very still against her.

However, Buffy didn’t seem fazed by the news. “We already got that bulletin. I guess the PtB thought you might be too late or something. They sent Will the same vision.”

“How did we miss this?” Dawn whispered angrily in Faith’s ear.

Faith wanted to know the answer, too, until she put together the timeline of the last day in her head. “I think we were a little busy when the girls figured this out.”

“Busy?” Dawn was confused.

“Yeah. You know, _busy_.” Faith accented the last word and wiggled her eyebrows.

She knew Dawn had made the connection when her skin turned fiery red from a blush. Hugging her girlfriend a little tighter, Faith went back to the conversation in the middle of the room.

“I wish the PtB had taken that into consideration and left me alone, then.” Cordelia tossed her hair.

“They couldn’t, Cordy.” Angel took her hand. “I was the only one who could put the pieces together.”

“What pieces?” Buffy demanded.

Faith listened more intently. Her sister Slayer looked tense now. Something was going on. Something big.

Angel stood, looming over Buffy, hand still gripping Cordelia’s. “There are only two vampires who can open the Seal. Their blood is part of an ancient and powerful bloodline – the Master’s.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: A belated note on the AtS crew - I’ve basically ignored all of the Conner portions of canon. Also, although the Beast was summoned, there was no evil Cordy. Mea culpa to the AtS canon enthusiasts.


	44. Chapter 44

The Master? Wasn’t that the vamp who’d killed Buffy? Keeping her eyes locked on the staring match across the room, Faith tried to figure out why the tension in the room had jumped up a notch.

“Oh, shit,” Dawn whispered. She pressed back into Faith.

“D? What the hell is going on?” Faith breathed the words in Dawn’s ear. This wasn’t the time to interrupt, not with Buffy and Angel nearly toe to toe.

Buffy broke the tableau herself. Growling and knocking over an end table with a hard thrust, she announced, “I’m not killing you again!”

Eyebrows rising, Faith tried to remember if anyone had mentioned killing Angel.

“You couldn’t, Buffy, even if you wanted to.” Cordelia didn’t seem impressed by the show of force. Head resting against Angel’s arm, she narrowed her eyes at Buffy. “If you’d stop acting like a jealous bitch for a minute, Angel could explain things.”

The sheer shock value of Cordelia lecturing anyone on behavior had Faith biting back a chuckle. She’d certainly pegged Buffy’s actions. Now all they needed was Willow jumping in with a little firepower and it would be the Scooby Soap Opera - live and in color.

***

Only Willow’s grip on her arm kept Buffy from responding violently to Cordelia’s taunt. “It isn’t about your new boyfriend,” she spit out. “It’s about having to stick sharp and deadly objects into my former lovers.”

“Oh, so you slept with Spike, too?” Cordelia shook her head. “Really, Buffy. At least Angel has a soul.” She looked up at Angel while Buffy ground her teeth. “And a sexy smile.”

Angel showed off the smile.

Willow added a second hand in an attempt to hold Buffy in place.

“But Spike? He’s just an evil demon.” Cordelia pulled Angel to one of the couches and sat down.

“Cordy,” Buffy warned. She’d had enough. “Get to the point.” Her nails dug into her palms as she fought the need to smack the smirk off Cordy’s face. She’d always hated that expression. It reminded her too much of her first day at Sunnydale when Queen C had made fun of Willow.

Pouting slightly, Cordelia relented. “Go ahead, Angel. Explain the whole Champion thing. I still get confused with how it works.”

Arm resting on Cordelia’s shoulders, Angel nodded. “You don’t have to worry about me, Buffy. The First can’t touch me – at least, not for the ritual. I’m protected by the PtB.”

The Powers were protecting someone? Since when? And why Angel? “That doesn’t make sense, Angel. How? Why?” Buffy fired off. “They sure as hell haven’t been big with the protections before.” Her dive off the tower came to mind.

“It’s complicated.” Same old Angel. He cocked his head and frowned. “How much do you know about a law firm called Wolfram and Hart?”

Out of the corner of her eye, Buffy caught Faith’s flinch. “Never heard of them,” she said before turning to Faith. “You have, though. Spill.” Buffy didn’t bother asking. She needed to know, and she wasn’t wasting time with niceties.

Faith moved away from Dawn, stopping midway between their position and Buffy’s. “Don’t know much, B. They ah…they hired me to kill Fang when I first hit LA a few years ago. I met three of their employees. Hot shot lawyers with big plans.”

“Why would a law firm want Angel dead?” How did they even know about him? Buffy was confused and not happy about it. Glaring at Faith then Angel, she tried to make sense of everything going on.

A throat cleared behind her, breaking her concentration.

“Can we get back to the vision and Spike?” Jennifer asked. “I think it’s more important than Buffy’s love life and Faith’s checkered employment history.”

A flush crawled up Buffy’s cheeks. “Sorry,” she mumbled. Laser-like green eyes bore into her. “Got sidetracked for a minute.”  Turning to Angel and Cordelia, Buffy asked flatly, “Why are the PtB protecting you? And is there anyway to get Spike out of Sunnydale without a dustpan?”

“The PtB have plans for me that don’t include being a sacrifice to open the Seal, Buffy.” Angel stood and paced restlessly across the room.

Buffy turned slightly so she could follow his progress. She felt Willow move with her, pressing into her and wrapping an arm around her stomach. Buffy’s head automatically dropped back to rest on Willow’s chest, her breathing slowing and deepening as the contact calmed her.

“So they’ve what? Granted you immunity or something?” Willow’s question vibrated through Buffy’s body.

“Yes.” Angel didn’t seem inclined to offer more. He went on, changing the subject. “That leaves Spike as the only surviving descendant of the Master. Without him, the First can’t complete the ritual.”

Buffy frowned. “Aren’t you missing someone? What about Dru?”

Eyes cold, Angel answered tightly, “Gone. Permanently.”

Cordy sat forward before Buffy could comment. This time, Buffy didn’t see any signs of the former Queen C. She was all business. “If my vision is correct – and the PtB don’t usually waste time on jokes – we don’t have a lot of time. It was hard to piece together, but I thought I caught a glimpse of the full moon.”

“Precisely.” Feeling like a spectator at a tennis match, Buffy looked from Cordelia to Wesley. “I was able to do some research on the trip here,” Wesley continued. “The First has only a small window in which to complete the ritual. There is a lot of very complex magic involved; he will have to expend huge amounts of his personal energy stores to open the Seal, even with Spike’s aid.”

Buffy stiffened. “His aid? You make it sound like Spike is volunteering to give up his blood.”

Her words rang in the quiet room.

“Forgive me, Buffy. However, that is an irrelevant detail,” Wesley told her bluntly. “Our only concern at the moment must be to keep the Seal from opening…no matter the cost.”

***

This was getting them nowhere. Too many old wounds and not enough clear heads. Awash in the anger and bitterness rising in the link, Willow stepped in. “Sweetie, why don’t you take Faith and a few of the new faces into the den. We need information on the Scythe and how to find it. I can work with the LA crew on Spike and the Seal.”  She didn’t wait for Buffy to argue. “You said it yourself, Buffy. You’re too close to this _._ ”

It didn’t seem to be enough at first. Buffy remained stiff and still against her.

Maybe it was time to show Buffy, too, that she wasn’t the same old Willow. Starting to pull in power, Willow thought about what to do. Fireballs were out. That was for Faith – and it was overkill. After all, she didn’t want to hurt Buffy, just motivate her a little.

She’d forgotten that her wife could sense the energy surge through their conduit. _Chest beating and now spousal abuse?_ Willow might have worried about that internal comment if she couldn’t also hear the laughter in Buffy’s mental voice. “Right. I did.” Buffy’s regular voice was clipped and angry.

The dichotomy confused Willow for a moment…. Until a warm invisible hand stroked her cheek.

“Thanks, sweetie.” She left it open to interpretation whether that was for the agreement or the caress. “I’d take a minimum of one Watcher. You’ll need at least one person dedicated to research.”

There were grumbles from Potentials and Slayers alike at that.

Willow smiled to herself as the mood in the room shifted, the earlier aggression now gone.  “Mama,” she asked, looking at Jennifer, “can you and Tara give us a hand with the Seal problem? I’d like some more witchy experience on the team when we get to the blowing up of the ‘Bringers part of the plan.”

Jennifer nodded while Tara simply moved closer and dropped onto the floor below Angel and Cordy.

People were streaming out of the room or finding places to sit. The research teams had been chosen. Willow made sure Buffy was out of the room and did her best to filter the entrance to their bond. “OK, Angel. Spill. What’s the deal with Spike and the First?”

“I don’t know everything, Willow,” he said earnestly. “Between Cordy’s vision and some rushed bookwork by Wes, we know that the Master’s descendants carry some kind of key to the Seal. Exactly what or how it works…” Angel grimaced. “That we didn’t find.”

Tara quietly held up her hand. “We can worry about that later,” she said. “Cordy mentioned the full moon. That’s only a couple of days away.”

“Two days?” Willow tried to sound confident. Inside, she was screaming, _Two days_? That’s all they had? “That’s a lifetime in Scooby years.”

Blonde hair drifted forward in a familiar gesture. “Maybe, but you’ve forgotten all of the Wiccan training I tried to give you.” Although Tara’s voice was soft, the reproof was evident. “In spell casting, the three days just before the full moon carry almost as much power as the actual night itself. We may not have as long as you think – especially if the First finds out we know about the link to Spike.”


	45. Chapter 45

“That means we have to move fast.” Jennifer jumped into the conversation. “Can we get to Spike before the First finds him?”

Willow glanced at Cordelia. Both of their visions showed Spike already taking part in the ritual. “Cordy? You’re the expert on PtB messages. What do you think?”

“Nothing you’re going to like.” Cordelia shifted on the couch, pressing closer to Angel. “Sometimes we’ve had enough time to get to the victim before the demon, but…it looked like Spike had been there for a while.”

All the wounds and the blood. Willow closed her eyes, remembering. “So, if we don’t get there first, we only have one option.”

No one said the words, yet they hung heavily in the air.

“Even k-killing Spike might not b-be enough, Willow,” Tara said softly. “If we arrive after the ritual has st-started, his blood will have already unlocked the Seal. We need a way to c-close up the Hellmouth again.”

“Ah…” Willow looked up at a very uncomfortable-looking Dawn. “Experience says that what opens also closes,” Dawn said, meeting Willow’s eyes. “I’m sorry, Will. I really am. Spike isn’t going to walk away from this one.”

Staring at her clenched hands, Willow accepted the truth of that statement. “You’re right, Dawnie.” She’d simply have to find a way to break it to Buffy. “We know how to close the Seal. We know where the ritual is taking place.”

“And we know the First’s timetable.” Angel stood and smiled. The tips of his fangs gleamed. “Anybody up for a trip to Sunnydale?”

“I’ll go.” Willow’s head nearly came off it snapped around so fast. “You’ll need an experienced witch for this,” Jennifer said firmly. “It may have been a long time since my last fight with evil, but I’m sure I remember how it works.”

Narrowing her eyes, Willow prepared for a fight of her own. “Sorry, Mama. I’ll be the one going. You can…”

Suddenly, she was talking to an outthrust palm.

“You can’t go, Willow,” Jennifer responded calmly.

Willow sensed more than saw the people around her edging away. “Yes, I can.” She leaned forward, hands on knees. “In fact, I’ve got way more experience than you and every other witch on this ranch. I’m going.”

The edging away became outright fleeing. Soon, only Willow and Jennifer remained in the room.

“Listen up, daughter mine. You aren’t going.” Jennifer moved closer and dropped to her knees in front of Willow. “The First was in your mind. It hid there, nearly overloading your reservoir and maybe leaving hooks into your power. I’m not letting you head for a face to face meeting where it might be able to use those hooks to its advantage.”

“The First isn’t in my head any longer.” Willow was up in a heartbeat. Glaring down at Jennifer, she refused to even consider the thought. “You were the one who told me my mind was clean. Were you wrong?”

Jennifer dropped back to rest on her heels. “Is it worth the risk to find out?”

The quiet question stopped Willow cold.

“You and Buffy aren’t alone in this one, Willow. You have a family now – both of you.” Jennifer stood and kissed Willow’s cheek. “I’m going; you’re not. It isn’t up for any more discussion.”

Willow numbly watched Jennifer stride away.

 ***

The small den where Buffy taken her nap a couple of days ago was crowded. Perched on the arm of the sofa, she surveyed the research team. Giles held court at the desk by the window. Faith leaned against his shoulder, peering at the open book in front of him, while the rest of the group sat on chairs and the floor around them.

“There is frightfully little to go on, I’m afraid.” Giles tossed his glasses onto the book and rubbed his eyes.

Faith reached out and moved them. “What about this?” she asked, pointing to something.

Buffy sighed. Research. Did it ever end?

“Yes, thank you, Faith.” Putting his glasses back on, Giles bent back to the book. “Yes, that’s it exactly.”

Excitement edged out the boredom. Straightening, Buffy stood and stretched. “You got a location on the Scythe?”

“No,” Faith and Giles said in unison.

“Then what’s with the ‘that’s it exactly,’” she mimicked. “And since when did you start replacing Will as Research Gal?” Buffy demanded of Faith.

Drew waved a hand. The Willow-like gesture distracted Buffy.

Turning, she tilted her head. “You got the location?” _Please_ , she mentally added. All this sitting was driving her mad.

“Maybe,” Drew answered. “When you and Willow were going over the dream, she mentioned Restfield. Since it was a Slayer dream, doesn’t that mean the Scythe is there?”

It couldn’t be that easy.

Buffy shot Giles a pleading look. “Is she right, Giles? _Does_ that mean we should try Restfield?” The excitement was back. The Slayer woke slightly, energy coursing through Buffy in a tingling rush.

“Well, I…” Buffy knew where Giles was headed as he stumbled over the words. “…I suppose that might be the case. There hasn’t been an in-depth study on Slayer dreams before, you know.”

“I know. I remember you saying that the first time I had one.” Buffy managed a small smile to take the sting out of that comment.

“Restfield’s a rather large cemetery, is it not?” Buffy didn’t recognize the tiny woman next to Drew. That didn’t mean she didn’t immediately think ‘Watcher’ from the accent and the tweed patches on her elbows.

Nodding, Buffy agreed. “The biggest, actually. Why?”

“Did you intend to simply wander around, peering behind headstones in the hopes the Scythe would be in plain view?” the woman asked derisively.

A rumble began deep inside. The Slayer didn’t like this woman any more than Buffy.

Drew’s hand waved again.

“Kid, we ain’t in school. If you got something to say, just spit it out.” Faith sounded as frustrated as Buffy felt.

“Sorry.” Drew blushed and shrank back on the couch. “Um…Buffy, did you and Willow see anything else in the dream? I mean, we just got the highlights, I’m sure. If you remember any of the details, it might help.” A tiny grin flickered across her lips. “Fewer headstones to peer around.”

Buffy bit back a laugh as the unknown Watcher frowned, lips pressing together tightly.

“She’s got a point, B. You remember anything we can use?” Faith leaned against the back of Giles’ chair.

“Maybe.” Closing her eyes again, Buffy replayed the dream. It had never faded. The details were as bright and crisp as they had been the first time. “We were walking through Restfield, talking about going to the mall,” she mumbled, lost in the memory. “I heard something and went running off. There were a couple of vamps. I dusted them just as Will caught up.”

She could see the row of tombstones and one large mausoleum in front of her. There was a name etched in to the stone. It was…

“Aaronson!” Buffy’s eyes popped open. “The Aaronson mausoleum. That’s where I got the Scythe.”

***

“Then what the hell are we waiting for?” Faith pushed away from Giles’ chair. “I’m ready for some fucking action. Been sitting around talking way the fuck too much.”

She stopped after just a few steps when no one else moved.

“Surely you don’t think we’re letting you go alone?” The woman had been irritating when she’d questioned Buffy. Now, though…Faith gritted her teeth to keep from growling as the nasally voice droned on, “There should be at least one Watcher with you.”

Faith vowed right then that she would ask Wesley along before this woman volunteered.

As if he’d heard her thoughts, Wesley stood up. “Well, then, ladies. I think we need weapons for our trip.”

Resuming her trek to the door, Faith called out, “You want a sword, B? I think I saw some in the training barn earlier.” Not waiting for an answer, she picked up her pace. Prison hadn’t been big on vampires or demons, and the Bringer had been over too quickly. Nearly dizzy from the rising anticipation, Faith almost careened into Kirsten in the hallway.

“Watch where you’re going, little girl! You came close to skewering yourself,” Kirsten snapped.

Faith looked down. The deadly tip of gleaming steel was less than an inch from her stomach. “Fuck.”

It dropped as Kirsten lowered her arm. “Where are you going in such a hurry?”

“Sunnydale,” Faith announced. Her eyes tracked the sword until the blade rested on the floor. “Why are you running around with _that_? We got trouble on the way?”

“No,” Kirstan replied with a snort. “Not yet, anyway. Grab your gear and your crew, though. The vans are leaving in a few.”


	46. Chapter 46

“Ah, how did you get the news so fast? We just decided to head that way like a minute ago.” Faith didn’t really want to stop and chat; she was simply confused – and maybe a little shaky from the sword incident.

Kirsten didn’t appear to want to talk, either. “The girls are ready to go after Spike and the Seal. Jenny’s got them in the vans with all the magic stuff. I decided to take something a little less mystical.” The sword tip rose slightly.

“Give us a couple. We’ve got a group ready to get the Scythe. You got more of those in the house or do I need to go outside?” Faith waited for the answer, her enthusiasm once again rising.

“Take this one. I’ll grab a couple more and meet you outside.” The leather-wrapped hilt of Kirsten’s sword pressed into Faith’s palm before the older Slayer turned and sprinted through the house. Faith heard the kitchen door open and slam shut.

“I see you are properly armed.” The female Watcher stood in the hallway behind Faith. “Is that all you intend to take with you?”

Behind her, Faith watched Buffy and Wesley emerge from the den. Both of them grimaced when they saw who blocked their path. They didn’t have time to play nice. They needed the Scythe and to take care of the Seal. Ignoring the tiny voice screaming a warning in her head, Faith moved closer to the Watcher. “Listen up, bitch. In case you haven’t heard about me, I’m Faith. The Bad Slayer. I’m just off a deuce in Corona. You open your mouth again, and I might just forget I’m trying to reform.”

Her sensitive Slayer hearing picked up the woman’s faster heartbeat and her gulping swallow. “I…I understand,” the woman quavered out.

“Then get the fuck out of the way so we can get going.” Faith stepped aside, and the woman scurried off. “Stupid bitch,” she mumbled. Then she turned back toward Buffy and Wesley. “Let’s motor. The Old Timer’s got the van loaded. Seems it’s a good time to head to SunnyD,” Faith told them.

“Just like old times,” Buffy commented with what Faith assumed was a smile. It looked more like an involuntary twitch of her facial muscles. “Did you forget about me? Or are you going alone?” She waved at Faith’s weapon.

“Nah. I thought about it, though. It was you or Junior.” Faith started for the door.

Buffy’s smack to her shoulder had Faith staggering the next few steps. “And you picked me. I’m touched.”

Grinning, Faith tossed over her throbbing shoulder. “You ain’t so bad in a fight, B. Junior… Does she even know which end of a sword to pick up?” Cool air swirled around her as she shoved open the door and stepped outside. A single engine rumbled in the darkness. “Guess we’re all going together, B.”

***

As they hurried toward the vehicle, Buffy commented, “Let’s hope the witches aren’t taking a big crew. It might get a little crowded.” She peered at the van. The tinted windows and the cloudy night sky kept even her Slayer sight from determining how many people were inside.

“Fuck, B. You’re slow. If it’s crowded, we can have D and Red sit in our laps.” Faith’s grin flashed, and Buffy was sure her dimples were out. “Gotta start thinking positive.”

“I stand corrected,” Buffy muttered as she grabbed the handle to the van’s sliding door and pulled.

Crowded didn’t begin to describe the vehicle. Jennifer sat behind the wheel, impatiently tapping it with her fingernails. Angel and Gunn created one rank on the floor where the rear seats normally rested. Tara and Drew huddled in the next row amid piles of magical paraphernalia.

Faith and Wesley scrambled in, and bodies shifted to make room.

Spinning back toward the house, Buffy saw Kirsten running their way. “Jennifer?” she asked, raising her voice over the sound of the engine. “Where’s Willow?” As soon as the words were out, Buffy rolled her eyes. Stupid. She didn’t need to ask. _Will? Are you on your way? The van’s almost ready to leave._

A strong and unidentifiable mix of emotions flowed through their link. _No, Buffy. I’m staying here._

Total surprise severed their connection, leaving Buffy gaping into the darkness next to the van. Staying here? Willow had to be kidding. They needed her to stop the First from opening the Seal.

While she grappled with her shock, Kirsten bounded up. “Unless something’s wrong, you need to be in the van, Buffy. We don’t have time for you to collapse again.”

Buffy didn’t move. _Stop playing around, Will_. She managed to pull herself together enough to think at Willow.

“In or out?” Kirsten’s voice sounded right next to her.

Holding up a single index finger, Buffy signaled Kirstan to be quiet while she waited for Willow’s response. She felt Willow’s regret. _Buffy-_

Buffy felt herself come off the ground as two hands gripped her arms roughly. “Talk on the way,” Kirstan said sternly seconds before she tossed Buffy into the van.

***

Willow broke off her attempt at explaining when she felt Buffy’s anger. Cringing, she scrambled for something better than, “Mom told me I couldn’t go.”  However, her mental troubles changed direction when Buffy’s emotions settled into something closer to embarrassment. _Buffy? What’s going on?_

 _Your mother just threw me into the van!_ Even without seeing Buffy’s face, Willow knew her wife was scowling. _She picked me up and threw me into the van!_

It took all her self control not to laugh. _I’m sure she had a good reason, Buffy._ Getting them back to the important issues, Willow explained her lack of participation in the mission. It was hard going, though, because Buffy wasn’t impressed with Jennifer’s fears.

Finally, after several minutes of listening to Buffy sputter in her head, Willow threw up her physical hands and snapped, _I’m not happy about this either. I tried to sound like it so you would just go along with it._

Willow winced at the feelings of hurt and resentment beaming in from Buffy’s side of the link.

 _Look, Buffy, it’s over and done. You’re in the van, and I’m not. Start planning and getting ready for Sunnydale._ She softened her tone, widening the channel to its fullest and pushing all her love and hope in. _I want you back here in one piece in the morning, Slayer._

An answering touch caressed her mind before Willow pulled away from the contact. With a tired and frustrated sigh, she looked up at a questioning Giles. “Sorry. Buffy was about to jump out of the van and come pick me up. I had to talk really fast – faster than normal – to keep her on track.”

His lips twitched. “It is really too bad I bowed to Council pressure. I could have used your assistance many times over the years.”

For the first time, the reference to the Council’s interference didn’t make Willow angry. In fact, she giggled at Giles’ wry comment. “You might not have liked how that worked, Giles.” Winking at him, she plopped onto the couch and picked up a book. “Back then, I probably would have sided with Buffy. We were teenagers after all. Adults said the dumbest things, and they never knew anything.”

Chuckling, Giles nodded. “Indeed. You are quite right. You and Buffy might well have been the death of me.” He sobered after a moment. “Now that Buffy and Faith are near to retrieving the Scythe, I think the focus of our research must change.”

There were a few groans from around the room.

Willow looked at the faces of the people scattered amid the books. Anya and Dawn looked ready (if not willing) to continue. However, Dawn’s eyes jumped continually from her text to the window. The younger girl’s concentration wasn’t going to be on information; it would be on Faith.

The few Potentials seemed to vibrate in place, caged energy waiting to explode.

“Can we pare down the study group, though?” Pointing to the Potentials, Willow didn’t pull her punches. “They need to do something violent. Let’s round up the other Watchers and get them to the Training Barn. Anya and Dawn can find Xander and start fixing dinner.” Taking a head count, Willow continued, “That leaves you, me, Fred, and Cordy.”

Before she had even finished speaking, the Potentials were on their feet.

“And just where, may I ask, do you think you are going?” Giles asked.

Feet shuffled and twelve pairs of eyes looked at the floor.

“Precisely. Kennedy, my dear, do go and find Lydia and ask her to join us for a moment.” Giles waited until Kennedy had sprinted from the room and then gestured at the remaining girls. “Until your escort arrives, sit down.” This time, there was a bite of command in Giles’ voice.

With a thud, the girls resumed their seats. Quiet muttering emanated from the huddle. 

Giles raised steely eyes at the sound. “Did someone have something to say about the arrangements?”

Biting back a grin at the tone in Giles’ voice, Willow watched to see if any of the girls would be brave enough to take him on. She was almost disappointed when the room fell silent. Oh, well. She’d have to get her excitement from the pages of a book.


	47. Chapter 47

There wasn’t much excitement to be had, though. Willow shifted on the couch and stared at the faded print in the book on her lap. They’d been through most of the research material a dozen times in the last day. Not even prayer had turned up any new information.

“Giles,” she said slowly, “we aren’t going to find what we need in the books.”

Raising red-rimmed eyes, Giles gave her a tired smile. “I am beginning to fear not. Other than the briefest of descriptions on the First Evil, we have almost nothing useful.”

“I never thought I’d _want_ the PtB to beam me a message.” Cordy stood and wandered to the patio doors. “For once, can we have an apocalypse where _we_ actually have the information and the bad guys have to find a way to beat _us_? I mean, we’ve done this kind of thing way too many times.”

“If only it worked that way.” Giles leaned his head back and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Willow, could you go over the dream you and Buffy shared one more time? Perhaps we are overlooking something.”

Biting back a protest, Willow nodded. “Sure, Giles.” Repeating the dream couldn’t be any worse than reading all the magical texts again. Eyes closed and voice a monotone mumble, she recounted the details: overflowing drink machine, Restfield and the Scythe, and the priest at the pulpit.

Fred was the first of the research team to say anything once she finished. “I’ve never heard about Slayer dreams,” she drawled quietly. “Does each part of the dream mean something, or is the Scythe it?”

Giles shifted uncomfortably, and Willow waited for him to break out the Watcherspeak. It didn’t take him long. “The Council records on Slayer dreams were never very complete, Ms. Burkle. However, I cannot recall a single instance of a dream like the one Buffy and Willow claimed to share. Perhaps Cordelia is more familiar with its like from her messages from the Powers that Be.”

“Sorry, Giles,” Cordelia was quick to answer. “I get head-splitting agony with my visions, not burger-flipping fun.” She glanced over at Willow. “If Fred’s right, though, we’ve only solved one piece of the puzzle. Who’s the priest? Why is he important? And,” Willow grimaced as Cordelia’s smile turned mocking, “why were Buffy and Willow working at the DMP?”

“That appears to be the least relevant bit of the dream.” Giles plucked a pencil and notepad from an end table. “Willow, let’s make note of any detail you can remember about the part in the church. Are you certain this fellow was a Catholic priest?”

Willow thought about that portion of the dream again. “He was performing a mass in Latin. An old mass, not like the ones I saw when I flipped channels on Sunday. He was doing everything in Latin, and he had on red robes.”

“Let’s concentrate on identifying anything which may be relative from this part of the dream. Who is our priest? Why that particular color of robe?” Giles scribbled notes as he spoke. “Do you recall what _part_ of the mass he was performing?”

Unlike the other details, this part was very clear in Willow’s mind. “Yes,” she said excitedly. “He was apologizing.” Then she slumped back. “But I don’t remember for what. I just remember him repeating, ‘Mea culpa; mea culpa,’ as Buffy dragged me out. Then we woke up.”

He reached over and patted her knee. “Not to worry, my dear. I’m sure it will be enough. After all, we rarely have even this much to go on.”

“That’s the part of the mass where the priest is telling God and a whole bunch of other people that he accepts his sins,” Fred drawled shyly. “And the robe color is usually tied to a season or a feast.”

Everyone looked at her in surprise.

“You wouldn’t know which season is marked with a red robe, my dear?” Giles smiled hopefully.

Fred shook her head. “Sorry. It’s been a long time since summer Bible school.” Looking faintly embarrassed, she admitted, “Once I got into science, I didn’t spend a lot of time on religion.”

“Not to worry, Fred.” Patting her hands, Giles spent a few more minutes of note taking then he pointed his pencil at Cordelia and Fred. “Girls, perhaps you could start researching the possible significance of the robe? Perhaps it isn’t the mass itself that is important. Rather, it might be a time of year or a specific event in the church calendar. Willow and I will attempt to identify the priest…”

Dawn sprinted into the room, interrupting the rest of his assignments. “Will, there’s a bleeding woman at the door. She says her name’s Alex.”

***

Buffy slumped in the van, ignoring the subdued conversations going on around her. Willow wasn’t here. Willow wasn’t here and they were on their way to Sunnydale. When was the last time she’d headed off to fight evil without Willow next to her?

It took less than a second for Buffy to realize she’d only gone into battle without her good luck charm once. Remembering her days as Anne the Waitress didn’t exactly give her warm and fuzzy feelings.

“Hey, B. You with us, or did the Old Timer rattle your brain with that toss?” Faith’s voice interrupted Buffy’s trip into the past.

Raising her eyes, Buffy looked at Faith. The younger girl looked calm…until she spotted the slightly bouncing leg. Her Slayer woke with a sleepy growl. The Younger Sib was restless. “What’s the plan?” Buffy took a stab at the cause of Faith’s nerves.

Bull’s-eye. Faith jerked slightly and Buffy caught a faint pink tinge to her neck and the back of her ears. “Yeah. The plan.” Clearing her throat, Faith glanced at Angel and Wesley. “Me and the boys thought we might split up. You know, divide and conquer.”

Blushing and clichés. Giles would be so proud of Faith. Hiding a smirk, Buffy nodded. “Who goes where?” Unless Faith came apart entirely or (and Buffy didn’t think this would ever happen) asked for help, Buffy was staying out of the command chair.

“That’s where things are fuzzy,” Faith admitted. Dimples popped out and then disappeared. “Fang thinks me and you should go hunt for the axe.”

She was missing something. Faith kept watching Angel and grinning. “Spill, Faith. What’s got you giggling?”

That got her an insulted look. “First off, I don’t giggle. It don’t fit with my image. I chuckle and just laugh. No giggles.” Then Faith gave in. “Your girl scares the shit outta me, B. I don’t know if you’re worth risking that fireball ‘cause she’s jealous of me spending the night alone with you in a dark ceremony.”

Buffy smirked. “You might want to worry more about my sister. I remember she was the firestarter the last time we paired up.”

Faith’s laughter ended abruptly. “Fuck. I hadn’t thought about that.”

Too bad they didn’t have time to play. Buffy pushed the conversation back to business. “OK. We can brush up on our Chosen Two routine,” Buffy said. “Is the rest of the gang heading for the high school?” And Spike.  Buffy unconsciously clenched her hands.

Faith’s leg bounced even harder, rocking the van. “See, there’s where we have the problem, B.” Brown eyes pleaded with Buffy.

“Nope.” Hands palm out, Buffy refused. “I am not the referee. You’re in charge, Faith. Not me. I’m just here to put in enough time to get full retirement benefits. Tell me the plan,” she said bluntly. Faith had to learn to make decisions without looking to Buffy for confirmation.

Jaw tightening, Faith glared at her.

Buffy’s Slayer rumbled softly in warning, and Buffy rumbled not so softly back. If they were going to run off into the sunset with Willow, they had to let Faith play Alpha Slayer.  “Well? We aren’t exactly far from Sunnydale. I _have_ discovered that plans work best if you make them _before_ you get to the battle.”

***

"I think you and Fang should look for the Scythe,” Faith answered in a rush. She’d felt Buffy’s Slayer go on alert. Daring Buffy to disagree with her plan, she braced for a fight.

It was a severe letdown when Buffy simply said, “OK. That leaves you three witches, a semi-Slayer, a street fighter, and the scruffy Watcher guy to keep the gates of Hell closed. Decent odds.”

Faith tried not to stare at her in shock. Buffy must really be serious about retiring. Part of her mind danced in glee. No more playing Second Slayer. The other half, though, realized exactly what that meant. More being in charge. More making decisions. More giving rousing speeches.  That sober and serious part of her mind wanted to scream: _What about Spike? What are you going to do if I have to kill him?_ She wasn’t quite brave (or stupid) enough to say it out loud. “That’s the plan, then,” Faith mumbled.

The rest of the trip passed in tense silence.

Buffy seemed lost in her own thoughts. Or, Faith imagined, in Willow’s. She really needed to ask Kirstan how to do that with Dawn. Maybe feeling Dawn in her head would get rid of the need to throw up as they got closer and closer to Sunnydale.

She peered over Angel’s shoulder and out the windshield. “You know. I can’t count how many times I’ve seen that fucking sign.” Pointing out the window, she drew the gang’s attention to the big “Welcome to Sunnydale” sign illuminated by the headlights.

Buffy chuckled. “I’ve seen it a few, too. Don’t you just love the cold, cramping chill of fear you get every time?”

“It d-does have that effect, doesn’t it?” Faith looked up to see Tara smiling crookedly at them. “May-maybe it will be different once there are no d-demons and other th-things waiting to kill us.”

A snort sounded from the front of the van. “You kids are a strange bunch. Do you always prepare for a fight with a stand up routine?”

Faith looked at a grinning Buffy and Tara. “Yep. Ask your girl, Mama Red. Slayers don’t have time for job training. Me and B’re gonna go on the road once I’m ready to retire, too.”

Laughter filled the van.

“See? We’ll be rich and famous; no worries,” Faith assured Jennifer.

“I’ll believe it when I see it,” Jennifer responded. She fell silent as they drove through downtown. “Right now, I’m more concerned with what I’m _not_ seeing. Is it always this quiet here?”

With a startled look at Buffy, Faith scrambled past Angel and Gunn. Downtown Sunnydale looked like a ghost town. “Fuck.” Sitting back on her heels, Faith said, “Pull the van over. SunnyD never had much of a nightlife, but this ain’t normal. That means the First’s probably already picked off the human part of the town.”

“You think this means it’s waiting for us?” Gunn asked. He sat up and pulled a loaded crossbow from a duffel on the floor.

“Maybe.” Faith chewed on her lip and forced herself to not look at Buffy for help. If the First was waiting, they didn’t stand a chance against a town full of demons, vampires, and the biggest, baddest evil of all time. Stomach burning, Faith considered their options. Or option… They had to have the Scythe. They had to keep the Hellmouth from opening.

“B, you and Angel haul ass to Restfield. Get the axe.” She met Buffy’s eyes and saw support and grim determination there. “If we ain’t sitting at the gates when you’re done, we need you at the school.”

A short nod answered her terse comment. “I’ll keep Angel from looking up old friends,” Buffy joked as she grabbed the handle and opened the sliding door. “Do me a favor, though, Faith.”

“What’s that, B?” Faith prayed it wasn’t a request to keep Spike alive.

“Remember Rule Number One.” Buffy leapt from the van with Angel at her heels. “I don’t want to have to tell Dawn any bad news.”


	48. Chapter 48

“What’s Rule Number One?” Jennifer asked as she met Faith’s eyes in the rearview mirror.

Faith looked away and slammed the sliding door closed before answering. “I ain’t never read the Scooby Handbook, but I think that one’s: don’t die.” Dropping back to the floor of the van, she said, “Think we all need to keep that one in mind. No way am I telling Red and D that one of the family got hurt.” There wouldn’t enough left of her to bother scattering in the wind. 

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Jennifer reach out and grasp Kirstan’s hand. Drew looked pale in the shadowed interior of the van. It was crunch time, and the cracks were beginning to show in everyone’s composure.

The thrill Faith normally felt going into a fight faltered at those little signs. Everyone in the van… Hell, everyone back at the ranch, was depending on her to keep the Hellmouth closed and to bring them all home in one piece. Her chest felt tight, and it got hard to breathe.

“Perhaps you and I should leave the rest of the crew here, then.” Wesley grinned puckishly, breaking the mood. “After all, we are the only ones in this particular group who never gained family status.”

The moment of panic passed. Responding to Wesley’s joke, Faith said, “You got a point there, Wes.” Then she ducked as Tara tossed a stake at her head. This was better. This was more what she remembered from her brief time with the Scoobies. Fear mixed with fun. It sure beat the terrified looks and pale faces they’d been sporting a minute ago.

Blue eyes narrowed, Tara said softly, “If you aren’t c-careful, you’ll fi-find out Willow isn’t the only p-powerful witch.”

“Willow’s really scary,” Drew chimed in. “But I’m sure Mama and I can make things really interesting for you, too, Faith.”

Faith raised her hands in surrender. “Whoa! Take a step back. Ain’t no call to get all witchy. Me and Wes’ll stay with the group.” When she was sure no more items would come flying her way, she lowered her hands. “Now that B and Angel are gone, let’s get down to business.” Restraining a disbelieving eye roll, she mumbled, “We need a plan.”

“What did you have in mind?” Kirstan asked immediately. She turned in her seat so she faced the crew in the back of the van. 

“Uh…” Faith floundered. She hadn’t expected the swift response. This was where Buffy normally took over. Then Faith remembered – not only wasn’t Buffy here at the moment, Buffy wasn’t going to be around at all once the First was gone. Thinking quickly, she added, “We need a way into the basement, and we need to decide what to do when we get there.”

Wesley’s hand waved in the air. “I can get us to the Seal. I believe I’m the only one with knowledge of the old high school.”

No one disagreed. 

“Wicked. So we take the First by surprise,” Faith said, hoping that was the case. “Where do we go from there? T? Jenny? What kinda mojo are we interrupting?”

“We don’t know.” Jennifer shrugged defensively at Faith’s look of disbelief. “There was nothing in our library or Mr. Giles’ collection describing the ritual.”

That wasn’t what Faith wanted to hear. Mind blank, she stared at Jennifer. What were they supposed to do now? The van seemed to shrink and close in on her. She couldn’t do this. She couldn’t…

Wesley sat up, legs crossed Indian style. “That isn’t quite accurate.” 

The walls expanded slightly, and Faith dragged her eyes from Jennifer to look at Wesley.

“From Cordelia and Willow’s visions,” he continued, “we do know that the First is sacrificing Spike in order to open the Seal. I would expect him to have Bringers there to ensure the ritual’s completion as well,” he said calmly

The van was definitely too small and way too hot. Breathing labored, Faith wiped sweat from her face. Damn it. Why couldn’t they ever have enough information? “So we don’t know how many of the blind boys will be there.” Faith looked longingly at the door for a second. It promised fresh air and freedom. With Herculean effort, she turned back to her crew. “We’re gonna be as blind as the bad guys and way the fuck outnumbered, Wes,” Faith said in frustration.

“You’re missing the point, little girl.” Kirstan sounded impatient. “Numbers would be nice, but we don’t have to have them. We go in expecting trouble. That’s it.”

It wasn’t enough, Faith wanted to scream. People’s lives depended on her decisions. None of that came out, though. No matter how much Faith didn’t like it, Kirstan was right. It wasn’t like they ever had all the facts before a big fight. She needed to deal with it and move on. “Fair enough,” she said shortly, not wasting time with an argument. “Get us closer to the school, Jenny. Not the parking lot.” She got more confident as she talked, and the others responded by sitting straighter and looking less terrified. “Maybe a block away, in case the First has lookouts. Then, Wes, get us in.” 

He nodded resolutely.

“Me and you’ll take point once we get inside, Old Timer. We’ll keep the witches and Little Red in the middle and Wes and Gunn can bring up the rear.” It sounded too simple. As Jennifer drove them though Sunnydale, Faith wondered what she’d missed. 

“And Spike?” Kirstan’s question answered Faith’s musings. She’d forgotten Spike. “Is he a target or is this a rescue mission?”

The doors looked even more tempting now. Almost feeling the handle in her grip, Faith forced herself to consider the problem Spike represented. “Spike ain’t a Scooby, even if he has given B a hand,” she said, avoiding a direct answer, but she saw understanding in the eyes around her. Whatever Buffy felt for Spike, they weren’t in Sunnydale to save him. “Keep your eyes on the prize, kiddies. The Seal stays closed.”

When the van stopped the next time, Faith opened the side door and hopped out. 

In tense silence, the others followed her example. 

Crossbows, stakes, knives, and swords were handed out with only a few metallic clinks. 

“You’re on, Wes.” Faith made sure the stakes she’d jammed between her belt and her pants wouldn’t slip and waited for him to get moving.

“Right. This way.” He took off down the sidewalk before ducking into a darkened yard. Six shadows trailed in his wake.

***

Buffy and Angel sprinted through Sunnydale, sticking to the alleys and side streets. Their caution seemed almost unnecessary. Sunnydale might as well have been a ghost town. Nothing moved; not even a dog barked. 

The eerie quiet of the city mixed with the silence between Buffy and Angel until she couldn’t take it anymore. This was worse than a nightmare – all the running, hunting…something, and waiting for an attack. She had to stay focused. This was no time to act like she was on her first patrol.

“So, you and Cordelia?” The inane question was all Buffy could think of.

From the way Angel raised an eyebrow and smirked, she should have given it more thought. “So, you and Willow?” he responded.

That did it. Despite the gravity of the situation, Buffy giggled. 

Angel’s smirk became a smile. “Neither one of us ever did the expected, did we?” Reaching out, he gently squeezed her hand. “I’m glad. You look happy.”

Buffy gave him a droll look. “I look like Hell; don’t get all charming on me now, Angel.” Squeezing back, she smiled. “Thanks, though. I am. Happy.” God, this was awkward. Even after the multitudes of goodbyes, and the promises to move on, Buffy struggled with the concept of Angel with anyone. “Cordelia seems happy, too.”

He didn’t take the bait for a second. Then the question came. “What about me? Don’t I look happy?”

“Nope.” Buffy let their hands separate and picked up the pace as she responded. “And you not looking happy - that’s a good thing. You and happy are a bad, bad combination.” 

By the time she finished speaking, Buffy was running flat out; Angel was only a step or two behind as he gave chase. 

Both of them skidded to an abrupt stop. “You feel it?” Buffy gasped out. Bending over, she fought against the cramping pain in her stomach as her Slayer senses went wild.

“We’ve got company.” Angel vamped out and sniffed the air. “Vampires only, though,” he lisped.

“Let’s hurry.” Buffy pulled the short sword from her belt. “I’m not up to teaching your country cousins any lessons tonight.” Ignoring the continued twisting in her stomach, she started running again. They were still several blocks away from Restfield. “Do you think they’re looking for us or just out for a drink?”

Easily matching her pace, Angel didn’t even hesitate before answering. “What are they going to feed on, Buffy?”

“Good point.” Suddenly, her legs felt leaden, and her chest ached. God, Buffy hated this. She hated running toward (and not away) from another fight. “Then let’s hope they don’t know where we’re going.” They needed some kind of edge – even if past experience said they weren’t going to get one. 

Side by side, they streaked through Sunnydale. “Where’s the mausoleum?” If Angel had needed to breathe, he might have been panting. 

Buffy wasn’t sure. She paused, searching the darkened cemetery for landmarks. They’d come in from Carson Street. Spinning to her right, Buffy spotted the stone angel with a sword guarding the Beecher family headstones. “This way.” She took off again, pushing herself to her limits.

They almost made it. 

The first vampire blocked their path as the Aaronson Mausoleum came into view. “I’ve got this one. Keep going.” Angel took the lead. Not slowing, he ducked a punch and tackled his attacker to the ground.

Breathing ragged and fast, Buffy skirted the bodies grappling on the grass. She could feel the other vampires closing in. 

“There! Get her!” The shout rang out in the shadowed silence of the cemetery. 

The cramping increased. Fighting the pain and the burning in her lungs, Buffy took the last several strides to her goal. She didn’t have time to search for the Scythe, though. Back pressed to the cold stone wall of the mausoleum, Buffy raised her sword.

***

“What’s Alex…” Willow started to ask without thinking.

Dawn didn’t give her time to finish. Grabbing her by the arm, she dragged Willow out of the living room. “I don’t know what she’s doing here, Will. She knocked. I answered. Stopping the bleeding kind of took over from there.” 

Trying not to trip over Dawn’s feet or bang into the wall, Willow stumbled along beside Dawn. They reached the kitchen in seconds. “Alex!” Dear Goddess. 

Pale, battered, and bleeding, Alex sprawled a few feet inside the door. Anya knelt at her side, wringing pink-tinged water out of a washcloth into a basin near Alex’s head. 

Willow dropped to the floor at Alex’s other side. “What happened?”

“R-ran into some guys on the way here,” Alex explained softly. Then she groaned and flinched as Anya cleaned blood from a deep cut on her arm. 

A shadow fell across Willow’s shoulder. She looked up, and Xander silently held out a massive first-aid kit. She took it with a mouthed, “Thank you,” and set it on the ground. “Guys?” Willow didn’t believe that. Not with Alex’s condition. Demons were more likely. And if that was the case… Hands shaking, she dragged out bandages and shoved them at Anya.

“Couple of them,” Alex confirmed. “What’s going on, Willow? First Jennifer calls and says you’re too sick to go out. Then I see Morgan and Dorian tearing out of here with their cars loaded down.”

“Will?” Xander interrupted. “Should we see if those guys are still out there?”

The question got an immediate reaction from Alex. “Are you crazy?” She tried to sit up. Willow and Anya each grabbed a shoulder, pressing her back to the floor. “We can call the police or something.”

“Easy, Alex.” Willow felt the other girl tensing under her hand. “It’s OK. Xan, why don’t you have Giles make that call?” With her eyes, she tried to convey her real meaning to Xander.

It took a minute until his blank expression cleared. “Right.” Taking a step back, Xander gave a wide, fake smile. “Giles can…uh…call the police. See if they can find the guys that did this.” His tennis shoes squeaked on the tiles as he turned and ran out of the room.

“Let Anya clean you up, Alex.” Slowly climbing to her feet, Willow mumbled, “I’ll go hunt up something for you to wear.” 

“Willow,” Anya whined. “I could use some help.”

Imitating Xander’s earlier smile, Willow reached out and grabbed Dawn’s hand as she backed away. “I’ll be right back. I promise.” As soon as she and Dawn cleared the threshold, Willow said, “We need to ward the house. Now.”


	49. Chapter 49

The color drained from Dawn’s face. “Ward the house?”

If there hadn’t been so much at stake, Willow would have felt sorry for her. Despite Dawn’s inclusion in the Scooby lifestyle, they’d been careful to shield her from as much of that reality as possible. Right now, though, they didn’t have time for sympathy. “Alex wasn’t mauled by a human, Dawn. We both know that. And, thanks to the Sunnydale trip, you and I are the only witches here right now.”

“Right. Sorry.” Straightening, Dawn nodded resolutely. “What do you need me to do?”

That was a very good question. There hadn’t been much planning in regard to an attack on the ranch. “We’ll tap into Mama’s shields.” Willow ignored the fact that doing so would weaken the wards around the exterior of the property. “Between the two of us and the power boost from the shields, I think we can protect the house.”

The house… “Oh, Goddess. The girls are in the Training Barn.” Willow took off for the living room. “Giles!” she called as she exploded into the room. “Giles!”

Her enthusiastic entry gained her a raised eyebrow and a dry, “I am right here, Willow, and I have not yet lost my hearing,” from Giles.

“We have to get the Potentials back inside. If the First has vamps or Bringers in the woods…” Willow sucked in a deep breath to halt the incipient babble. “Dawn and I can’t stretch a ward all the way to the Barn.”

“I’m on it, Will. You and Dawnie start with the mojo,” Xander ordered. “Cordy and I will get the girls.”

Cordelia looked less than thrilled with Xander’s idea as she shoved the book in her lap to the floor. “Great. I swear, the next time we have a Scooby reunion, _I’m_ making the guest list.” Mumbling under her breath, she followed Xander out of the room.

“How are you going to create the warding?” Fred had lost her shy demeanor. Frowning and still clutching a large book, she stared at Willow. “Given that the house is forty-two hundred square feet, not including the basement, I don’t see how you can even think about covering the entire structure.”

Now Willow understood the dazed and irritated looks she’d gotten from her friends for years. Without thinking about it, she answered forcefully with one of Buffy’s favorite slogans, “I’ve got it under control.”

Fred’s eyes widened behind her glasses, and she seemed to shrink into herself. “Oh. OK. I just wanted to make sure you didn’t drain yourself.”

It was almost a relief when a window shattered in another part of the house.

“I don’t think we have to worry about that warding, Fred.” Looking around the room, Willow cursed the lack of weapons. Giles was already yanking the second axe from the wall, and there were no other displays or storage chests.

The lack of weapons became more than an academic concern.

The patio doors exploded inward in a shower of glass and broken wood, and a robed figure stepped inside. More Bringers pressed in behind the first one; in a solid line, they advanced.

Giles took up a forward position, cutting off their access to Willow and the other researchers. “If you have a plan, Willow,” he called, “now would be the time to implement it.”

Book firmly grasped in two hands as a bludgeon, Fred crowded closer to Willow. Dawn took up a similar stance.

Wishing she _did_ have a plan, Willow let instinct take over. Energy tingled and tickled under her skin as she opened the access panel to her magic. She’d fused gravel. Taking out a handful of blind, knife-wielding Bringers shouldn’t be any more difficult.

Blocking out Giles’ grunts and curses as he fought, she reached deep into the shimmering pool of power deep inside. The memory of the inferno in the courtyard firmly in mind, Willow scooped out a handful of the magic and maintained the walls of her barrier.

Footsteps and shouts drifted into the room from the hallway.

Afraid there were more of the First’s forces on the way, Willow hurriedly shaped the energy into a tight ball and hurled it across the room.

The Bringer slipping past Giles’ swinging axe erupted into blue flames. Screaming, he staggered forward – and went down with a grunt as Fred finished him off with a wild swing of her text. He lay smoldering on the floor as his fellow Bringers continued to advance.

One down. Willow was afraid to count the number remaining.

***

Her Slayer senses continued to be a problem as the horde of vampires descended. Buffy tried shutting down the feelings as she blocked a sword thrust from one vampire and kicked another in the stomach.

The ploy didn’t work. The warning cramps made just standing straight difficult.

Growling internally at the stupidity of that particular aspect of her Calling, Buffy grabbed the badly dressed vamp in front of her and hurled him several feet across the cemetery. She heard him grunt and the headstone that intercepted his flight crack.

None of her other attackers even slowed at the loss of their companion. They surged closer, and Buffy couldn’t duck all the blows. Her head slammed into the mausoleum at her back and she blinked to clear her suddenly doubled vision.

The short sword proved to be a bad choice. Swinging with everything she had, Buffy hacked and slashed at the vampires. A few went down, injured but not completely out of the fight. Form and style disappeared as desperation and a primal need to survive took over.

During one such frantic parry and thrust, Buffy overextended. Stretched out and poorly balanced, she was an easy target.

With a howl of triumph, the vampire to her left stepped inside her guard. Buffy could see the lengths of the chain in his hand catch the moonlight as they swept in her direction.

Buffy’s options were limited. Drop to the ground, making her an ideal target for the horde, or try to block the chain with her left hand, risking a broken arm.

The Slayer made the decision for her.

Reversing the usual process, the Slayer _reached_ for Buffy, bridging the gap between the human host and the primal life force.

Buffy felt the change immediately. Her vision sharpened. Tombstones, the vampires, even the blades of grass stood in vivid contrast. In one fluid movement, she twisted and dropped her left shoulder down so her back was parallel to the ground and she stared at the stars.

The chain whistled over her chest and face, missing by a hairsbreadth.

Muscles responding on memory alone, Buffy grasped the chain in her left hand and wrapped it around her forearm.

The action pulled her attacker off balance. He took a staggering step toward her.

A growl burst from Buffy’s throat. Using her right foot for leverage, Buffy swung her sword hand in a hard arc. The hilt slammed into the vampire’s nose with a satisfying crunch.

He released his end of the chain with a howl. Hands pressed to his bleeding and broken nose, he faded back into the throng.

Now armed with a new weapon, Buffy regained her position against the mausoleum. Working both arms in tandem, she beat back or beheaded the vampires. Unbelievably, the numbers began thinning.

She might make it.

Letting that thought spur her tired and trembling body on, Buffy blocked a tree branch as it descended toward her head with her left hand and stabbed the holder of the club with her sword.

One more down – if not out.

“Buffy!” Angel’s voice penetrated the grunts and curses of the vampires and Buffy’s harsh breaths.

With a fierce smile, Buffy lopped off another head. “What took you so long? I mean, there was only that one vamp. You stuck me with all his teammates.”

She saw his head above the last line of attackers. In full-fanged glory, Angel helped clean up the final few vampires. “I miscounted,” Angel told her. He held Buffy upright as she fought for breath. “It wasn’t one. It was more like fifteen.”

“Sure. I believe you.” Buffy slowly straightened. And then she frowned.

Angel saw her expression. “I don’t feel any more. Do you?” Keeping one hand on her arm, he scanned the cemetery intently.

“No. No more vampires.” Buffy looked around, too. “During the fight, the Slayer came out to play. She hasn’t left.” In fact, as she pushed at the primal presence, she got a very clear, “Just wait,” in return.

The hand on her arm disappeared in a hurry, and Angel took a step away. “I’ll just…wait over here while you argue with yourself.”

Buffy didn’t waste time explaining what was really happening inside her head. Instead, she listened to the subliminal directions from her Slayer.

Leaving Angel behind, Buffy wandered slowly through Restfield. One area, on the far side of the mausoleum, pulled at her. It wasn’t a voice, or even a sound that drew her.

Something glowed under the sod and flowers decorating the front of the Adamson crypt.

She headed straight for that light. With each step, it grew brighter, and the pull strengthened until Buffy nearly vibrated from the not quite audible sensation.

When she reached the origin of the glow, Buffy dropped to her knees and began to dig through the grass with her bare hands.

***

The closer they got to the old high school, the more Faith felt the demons and vampires inside. “Looks like they got a party waiting for us,” she announced softly.

“Can you tell how many?” Trust Gunn to get right to the point.

Faith strained to determine the numbers as they continued to run through the shadows cast by a nearby house. Her senses twisted and recoiled at the gathered evil ahead. “Fuck.” She yanked away from the feeling. “No. Just trying to get a head count made me want to puke, though. Gotta be a lot.”

“Wrong,” Kirstan told her.

Flushing at the implied rebuke, Faith reached out again. She had to push past the crawling under her skin. It was like swimming in Jello. Faith could _almost_ make out the different forms and figures in the basement. Then she lost her grasp on her senses, and it all slipped away. Hating the need to ask, Faith snapped defensively, “I know I ain’t got your years on the job, Old Timer. Stop pointing that out and give us the info so we don’t get our asses kicked.”

She felt Kirstan’s glare as the older woman replied, “There are twenty five, maybe thirty, vamps.”

Faith felt the anvil on her chest shrink in size. “That’s doable. Thirty versus seven. I’ll leave a few for the rest of you,” she promised with a smirk.

“Don’t get cocky, little girl.” Kirstan sounded grim as she warned, “The vamps aren’t the problem – whatever’s causing the fireworks on the radar _is_.”


	50. Chapter 50

“You got more info than just ‘watch out for the fireworks?’” Gunn didn’t sound impressed with Kirstan’s warning. “’Cause it’s hard to choose between a classic stake through the heart or a quick beheading with that.”

Drew hastily smothered a giggle when Kirstan scowled at his comment.

No one else laughed. In fact, the mood as they approached the school was grim. Making the upcoming battle even bleaker, Kirstan finally responded to Gunn. “If you want a diagram with a big red ‘X’ over the target, you’re out of luck. Go with beheading; the odds are better.” She paused for a minute as the group ducked through some bushes. “Whatever’s in that basement, though… I doubt even chopping off its head will work. I’ve _never_ felt anything that strong.”

“Are we even sure it _has_ a head?” Faith regretted the words the second she said them. A quick glance at Drew showed her laughter had disappeared. Her eyes were wide and dark, and the moonlight turned her skin a freakish pearly grey. Faith’s first impulse was to apologize. She had meant to be funny. Obviously, her comedic timing was lacking.

The group chose that moment to emerge from the underbrush. The darkened bulk of the original Sunnydale High School loomed ahead.

All thoughts of apologizing slipped away in a flood of uncomfortable memories.

_Desks hemmed her in and Faith stared at Buffy, trying to hide her fear with bravado. “So, you gonna rat me out? Is that it?”_

_“Faith, we have to tell.” Buffy held out a hand, and her eyes seemed to suck Faith in. “I can’t pretend to investigate this. I can’t pretend I don’t know.”_

_That hurt. Faith jerked back from the hand she’d been on the verge of taking. Breathing in harsh pants and clenching her fists, she verbally lashed out at Buffy. “You can’t pretend? Since when? Remember all that bullshit about Angel being dead? Guess what, Princess, he may not be breathing, but he sure as hell ain’t in Hell. What about that big whopper?” She shoved one of the desks to the side, and it screeched across the polished tiles. “It’s OK to lie about Angel. But me? Just fucking toss me to the Keystone Kops…”_

The trip down memory lane came to an abrupt halt.

“It doesn’t look quite as I remember it,” Wesley said wryly, snapping Faith back to the here and now. “It was more…whole the last time I was here.”

Shaking hands stuffed deep in her pockets, Faith looked at him. Wes’ face was set in hard lines beneath his scruffy beard, and she realized she wasn’t the only one fighting off images of the past. Her voice only a little tight, Faith quipped, “Don’t let the missing windows and doors fool you, Wes. Inside, it’s still the hellhole we knew and hated.”

Wes laughed softly, and some of the grimness left his face. “Indeed. Thank you for pointing that out. It was just what I needed to hear.”

Slowly throwing off the vestiges of the flashback, Faith gave her trademark smirk. “Always knew you were just a stuffed shirt, Wes. Guess my new job as General Faith means I gotta keep you up with the rest of us. We ain’t got no room for a short bus right now.”

Kirstan coughed, and Faith heard feet shuffle in the grass.

She couldn’t stall anymore. It was time to go inside. “OK, Wes, we’re here. Now what?” Faith bounced nervously. The screaming in her senses was constant, and while she wasn’t afraid of a good fight, Faith wasn’t sure that the small group huddled next to the school would equal a fight – good or not.

“Well,” Wes moved up to a broken window and peered inside. “This is the science hallway. If we go in here…” Lifting a leg and stepping carefully over the jagged edges of glass, he dropped into a classroom. “The basement entrance is down this hallway on the other side of the main office.” His voice seemed to float out of nowhere.

Gunn didn’t wait for orders. He simply jumped in behind Wesley.

Hanging back, Faith watched and helped the rest of her tiny army follow suit. When she was the last person on the outside, she scanned the area one final time.

Nothing moved. Nothing made a sound.

The only things Faith heard were the soft breaths of the people gathered in the classroom, waiting for her. Ignoring the uneasy goose pimpling her skin, Faith finally stepped over the glass herself and jumped the short distance into the cluttered science lab.

***

Willow realized immediately that flaming Bringers was a bad thing. The shrieking flame-engulfed body on the floor had started a line of slowly growing embers on the rug. Unfortunately for her parents’ home, Willow didn’t have the time to find a reversal for her magic. Two more Bringers slipped past Giles as he battled wildly with another.

Dawn leapt at the first of the attackers. Her book made an unwieldy weapon, and the Bringer easily sidestepped her slow and awkward strike.

The blade of a knife slashing at her side distracted Willow. She jerked backward just in time. There wasn’t time to think. Magic disappeared as survival instincts kicked in. Swinging her own book, Willow whacked the Bringer’s knife arm.

He looked shocked and lost his grip on the weapon. It clattered to the floor and Willow dove after it. She was barely fast enough. The Bringer recovered from his surprise and slashed at her semi-prone form with his other blade.

Wrenching sideways, Willow parried awkwardly. Their knives slid against each other with a hair-raising shriek of metal on metal. Her right arm rapidly numbing from the impact, Willow frantically bolstered her grip on the knife with her left hand.

It was barely enough to keep her from losing the blade. Not even with two hand on the hilt, though, was Willow strong enough to keep the Bringer from slowly shoving both blades closer and closer to Willow’s throat. She bowed back, trying to create a gap between them.

Unfortunately, the knives followed her movement with increasing speed as her new position weakened her leverage against the Bringer.

As Willow watched in terror, the knives descended farther. They were less than an inch from her neck. With an internal rumble, her magic flared to life deep inside. This wasn’t the powerful and controlled energy she’d hurled earlier. This was the wild and terrible power she’d wielded during her first days at the ranch.

Panicking, Willow knew she couldn’t fight on two fronts. The knife was the more imminent threat. However, if she failed to hold it back, she would be the only victim. If the magic gained the upper hand, _everyone_ in the room would be its victim.

She closed her eyes on the shining steel pressing inexorably nearer and reached into the churning blue pool of magic inside her reservoir. At first, she tried to calm the rising waves. Her efforts failed. The magic pounded against the barrier walls with deafening crashes.

It was another lost cause, Willow admitted to herself. She wasn’t strong enough. Not against the Bringer and not against her own magic…

“Hey, are you praying or what?” The mocking voice snapped Willow out of her trance-like state.

The images of inevitable destruction faded.

A pair of impatient brown eyes watched her intently, and Willow blinked at Kennedy in confusion. “What?”

Kennedy waved a bloodstained hand. “You’re crazy, you know that? We’re in the middle of a war and you’re zoning out in the middle of the room. I thought all you Original Scoobies were good under pressure.”

Willow ignored the cutting comment and performed another internal wellness check. The wild magic was still pushing for release, but it wasn’t close to breaking free. Not now. With the end of the threat to her life, she’d regained a modicum of control.

Pivoting on her heels, Willow began to take stock of the battle’s aftermath.

The group from the Training Barn had obviously made it back to the house. They hadn’t done so unscathed, though. Two of the Potentials huddled on the couches with Watchers in attendance.

That was bad. Willow felt her skin grow cold and sweat bead her hairline. Had they lost anyone in the fight? “Kennedy…” she started to ask just as her eyes fell on a group near the doorway.

Four familiar figures stood in a semi-circle and stared at the floor. Willow followed the same visual path to the pair of jeans-clad legs and tennis shoes of the body sprawled in front of the group.

***

Buffy tore through the wet grass and dirt. With each handful, the light grew brighter. Squinting against the painful glow, she concentrated on reaching the cause of that light. It called to her. It dragged at her senses until everything else around her faded.

Finally, arms aching and hands cut and bleeding in a dozen places, Buffy realized she could actually see the scythe. It wasn’t the majestic weapon she’d seen in her dream. In fact, it looked like it might crumble if she touched it.

Dirt encrusted the leather-wrapped snaith, and even in the moonlight Buffy saw the rust caking the blade.

Dropping her hands limply to her side, Buffy stared into the hole she’d made. That was it? _That_ was the weapon the PtB had wanted her to find? It had to be a joke. Maybe there was another weapon farther down.

Before she could dig anymore, though, Angel’s voice cut through the quiet cemetery. “Buffy! Grab the scythe and let’s go. We’ve got trouble on the way.”

Buffy looked up and saw Angel peering intently into the darkness. The scythe’s power had faded along with the light, and she searched in the direction of Angel’s vigil. “Shit!” That wasn’t trouble. That was an army. Bending quickly, she grasped the scythe with one hand and pulled it from its resting place.


	51. Chapter 51

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay. Here it is: the final 20-chapter push to the end. I should have everything up in the next 24 hours

The second her hand touched the weapon, Buffy gasped and staggered back. Her hand…her _arm_ burned, and the raw power of the Scythe surged through her. Struggling to keep her footing and her hold on the _snaith_ , Buffy barely noticed the first wave of vampires rush toward her and Angel.

On autopilot, she put her right hand on the haft and swung in a chest-high, level arc. The scythe whistled and picked up speed. It weighed next to nothing, and Buffy watched in amazement as it cut through four vampires in succession.

Dust scattered in a thick cloud.

Where it landed on the scythe, the blade glowed. Unlike when she was digging for it, the light was blood red and pulsed sullenly. She didn’t have time to watch, though. With a sharp wrench, she brought the axe in a return arc.

One of the new line of vampires had a sword. It clanged against the scythe, stopping Buffy’s swing. She snarled in response and shoved the scythe forward. The spike at the top of the haft pierced the vampire’s eye. Screaming, he dropped his blade and staggered away.

Buffy chanced a quick look around as she ducked a wild swing from another vampire. The cemetery was teeming with more, and she couldn’t see Angel in the swarm. Heart pounding, Buffy bit back a cry of fear. There was no way she could win this fight alone.

She _reached_ for Willow. For an instant, warmth tickled the edges of their link…and then faded as Buffy blocked a sword thrust with the hilt of the axe. It took too much concentration to maintain her connection with Willow.

If Angel was down, she was truly alone.

Gripping the scythe, Buffy ignored the shaking in her arms and the sudden drop in her strength. She didn’t have time for fear.

She let the Slayer out to play and raised her weapon with a scream of defiance. She’d died before. If she had to, she could do it again. On the way, though, she’d make damned sure most of her opponents went with her.

The darkness in the cemetery brightened as the Slayer stretched out. _Yessss_ , the Slayer howled. _YES!_ The scythe blazed brightly at the inner sound, and the Slayer seized on the added power radiating from the weapon.

This was a weapon like no other. Hands curling around the polished wood of the hilt, the Slayer swung the blade back and forth. She didn’t pause or slow when the contact wasn’t fatal. Instead, she waded into the mass of demons.

A few vampires managed to land lucky blows.

Barely aware of the cuts, bruises, and broken bones, the Slayer fought. This was what she had been bred for. This is what she lived to do. Their host hadn’t understood before. Now…Now the Slayer demonstrated what they should have been all along.

There was no sense of time. There was only swing, duck, parry, kick, and kill.

Finally, the Slayer realized her prey were fewer in number. Disappointed, she pursued those that ran for safety. They could _not_ get away.

***

From inside the school, the screaming of her senses managed to somehow grow louder. It was nearly a physical presence, and Faith clenched her teeth and pulled her shields in tight. It helped with the debilitating cramping and the adrenaline swirling along her nerves.

It was like moving with cotton wrapped around her brain.

Gritting her teeth, Faith ignored the sudden vacuum. “Let’s get this done,” she said tightly. “When we hit the stairs, we’re gonna have a bulls eye right on our heads. Don’t slow down – for anything,” she stressed, looking slowly around the dark classroom, meeting every pair of eyes in turn.  In case one of the new Scoobies missed the significance of that statement, Faith repeated it. “Not for anything.”

No one moved.

“T,” Faith directed, “you and the other Power Puff Girls stay in the middle. You’re the only hope we got of keeping the Hellmouth from puking demons all over us.”

Nodding resolutely, Tara took Drew’s hand and pulled her over to where Jennifer stood. The older witch, Faith noted, was the only one of the three who seemed to take the coming battle in stride.

Drew was so pale her freckles glowed, and Tara’s lips had disappeared into a tight line of tension.

A sour taste filled Faith’s mouth as she considered the fact that either or both of them might not even reach the stairs. Shoving that thought away as if it burned, Faith quickly wove her way through the warren of desks still sitting in the abandoned room. “Hurry the fuck up, Old Timer. I’m gonna have as many grey hairs as you soon.”

Kirstan didn’t respond to the verbal jab. Face expressionless, she simply gripped her sword in her right hand and slowly opened the classroom door.

Watching tensely, Faith wished she dared extend her senses.

She let out a quiet breath when Kirstan waved her left hand to indicate it was safe to enter the hallway. Sticking close together, the group inched down the hall. Lockers listed drunkenly against the walls and debris littered the floor. The sword hilt slipped in the sweat slicking Faith’s palm, and she shifted it to her left hand long enough to rub her right dry on her pants.

It was too quiet. Too empty. There had to be something waiting for them. If not in one of the lockers then lurking in one of the other rooms or hiding around a corner.

They reached the stairs to the basement without incident, though. Staring at the thin wooden door, Faith knew their luck had run out. The First - and anything he’d managed to bring through the Hellmouth – waited for them. She reached out and gingerly turned the knob.

The hairs on the back of her neck sprang to attention at the loud metallic grating that echoed through the hallway.

Faith gave up on salvaging any element of surprise. With a violent tug, she wrenched the door open and leaped inside.

Two Bringers blocked her path, and four daggers drove at her body.

She parried one pair. Kirstan, standing at her shoulder, caught the others. The small landing was a very bad place for fighting. Pressed against Kirstan and hemmed in by the bodies stacked behind her, Faith struggled to keep her thrusts focused on the enemy.

A sharp edge sliced through her shirt – and arm.

Hissing at the pain, Faith got angry. “Fuck this!” she shouted. Raising a booted foot, she slammed it into the Bringer in front of her and watched in satisfaction as he tumbled down the stairs.

His companion half-turned at the sounds of the dull thuds and grunts of pain as the first Bringer completed his trip. That distraction cost him. Two blades thrust into him, one right after the other.

Faith swallowed back nausea at the blood streaking her sword. Human or not, the Bringers were evil. That reminder helped – a little. “Stay close,” she mumbled shakily and then started quickly down the stairs.

More Bringers waited at the bottom.

Slowing down wouldn’t help. Faith reached out a mental hand and unlocked the Slayer’s cage. The primal spirit burst out with a howl that tore from Faith’s throat, too. Lips pulled back in a feral grin, she vaulted over the railing and landed right in the middle of the group of Bringers. “Hope you ate your Wheaties, boys. The Slayer’s in the house now.”

***

Willow stared at the white sneakers. No. This wasn’t happening. She was dreaming, or having another vision.

Latching onto that thought, Willow drew her eyes away from the body on the floor and the silent group standing vigil over it. As she scanned the living room, Willow relaxed and smiled slightly. Yes, this _was_ a dream. There were none of the normal signs of a fight. The bookshelves still stood upright with their books neatly aligned. No scorch marks marred the walls and there were no piles of vamp dust on the carpet.

Her smile began to fade, though.

The first look was a lie. Blinking dazedly, Willow examined the room more closely. The bookshelves were upright, yes. On one side of the room. On the other… Books covered the floor in untidy piles with the broken remains of several bookshelves and tables mixed in.

Bad; not the worst that Willow had seen, though…until she got to the first body.

The Bringer sprawled across the floor with the hilts of his daggers peeking out from beneath the pool of his bloodstained robes. The cause of the blood appeared to be the axe embedded in his back.

Clasping her hand over her mouth, Willow continued her perusal.

The scorch marks weren’t missing. They simply weren’t on the walls. They were on the next Bringer. The Bringer Willow had killed. The Bringer she’d set on fire when she lost control of her magic.

She felt her gorge rise. Swallowing convulsively, Willow numbly backed away. No. Nononononono. The word echoed in her head. No! She hadn’t done that. She hadn’t _meant_ to do that.

“Willow?” A hand touched her shoulder, and Willow turned horror-filled eyes on Kennedy. “Maybe you should sit down. You look a little pale.”

Legs stiff and shaky, Willow pulled away and staggered across the room.

Those tennis shoes didn’t belong to a Bringer. With each step, Willow attempted to take an inventory of the people in the room. Step…Giles…step…Xander…

She couldn’t remember the names of the Potentials and the new Watchers. Head pounding, Willow struggled to put names and faces together with limited success. Why couldn’t she remember? She _should_ remember. These were Scoobies now, too.

Reaching the group surrounding the body, Willow touched Giles’ arm and peered around him. “Anya!” The room wavered and Willow swayed.

Blood leaked sluggishly from a deep cut on Anya’s stomach; however, it hadn’t always been such a slow flow. The floor was stained with a dark red puddle.

“Why is everyone staring at me?” Anya’s voice lacked its customary sharpness. The irritation, though, was very evident. “I need bandages and stitches, Xander, not an audience.”

“Right. Bandages. I’ll be right back, An. Don’t…don’t go anywhere.” Xander’s voice broke on the words, and he sprinted through the gathered crowd.

Sinking to her knees next to Anya, Willow reached out a hand and gently stroked her hair. She reached out mentally, too, screaming one name, _Buffy!_


	52. Chapter 52

Willow’s mental scream echoed in her own head, each successive wave pushing the cry farther out. It raced along their link, and Willow prayed Buffy would hear. This was all too much. The image of the charred Bringer and Anya’s prone form ran on an endless loop in front of her eyes.

 _Buffy!_ Willow cried out a second time when the wave failed to bridge the distance separating them. She backed up the summons with magical muscle, pushing even farther toward Sunnydale.

The answer was faint.

Frowning, Willow closed her eyes and concentrated on the tenuous _feel_ of Buffy in her head. It helped. She managed to grip Buffy’s presence and twine around it. Willow was so intent on maintaining their link and her own fractured self control that she didn’t register Buffy’s over-the-top energy levels. Not at first. _The First sent Bringers to the ranch, Buffy. I…_ Willow’s mental status report faltered. Blue flames and screams mixed in her memory.

A growl rumbled through the link and more energy wrapped around Willow.

 _Buffy?_ Willow flinched from the tight mental hug.

The ephemeral arms loosened a fraction, even as the growl grew louder. Willow caught the edges of Buffy’s rage at the attack on the ranch and her fear for Willow. And…

Willow moaned and her head dropped back. “Goddess,” she whispered hoarsely. The Slayer. It had to be the Slayer that Willow felt. Breathing in rapid pants, she fisted her hands to resist the urge to caress her own skin in response to the primal need flowing through the bond.

A throat cleared nearby, penetrating Willow’s desire-fogged trance. Prying an eye open, she mumbled, “What?” in a husky voice.

“Perhaps you could ask Buffy if she’s found the Scythe?” Giles’ face was expressionless except for the embarrassed flush on his cheeks. “I am, of course, assuming you and she are…talking.”

“Yes!” Willow’s response was too fast and too forceful. Pressing her lips together, she stopped talking and reached for Buffy again. The Slayer was still there, and Willow shuddered at the emotions filling their bond. _Is Buffy there?_ she asked hesitantly.

 _Yes_. It wasn’t Buffy…and yet, it was. Buffy’s mental voice was stronger and more confident than ever, but Willow could sense her wife in the deft mental touch. _I heard you say there were Bringers? Are you OK, Will?_

***

As she waited for Willow’s response, Buffy leaned against a headstone and scanned the cemetery restlessly. Her muscles twitched spasmodically and her nostrils flared with each deep breath. There were more vampires nearby. The Slayer could feel them.

No. _Buffy_ could feel them. She and the Slayer were joined now. Complete.

 _I’m fine, Buffy_. Willow was lying. Her mental voice was tiny and colored with emotions Buffy couldn’t readily identify. She could, however, imagine Willow looking anywhere but at her as they talked. _We had a few injuries…Anya-_

Buffy’s view of a nearby mausoleum suddenly disappeared.

She blinked in surprise then sucked in a deep breath. Shit. She wasn’t in Sunnydale anymore. She was… at the ranch?

Turning in a slow circle, Buffy took in the wrecked remains of the ranch’s large library and the people clustered together around the bodies sprawled on couches and carpets. A strange, clinging fog swirled around her. “Willow?” she asked the frozen woman standing in front of her.

Willow didn’t move, though. She stayed still, eyes closed and brow furrowed. Tears leaked from beneath her lashes and trailed down her cheeks.

Heart pounding, Buffy stepped around a motionless Giles. Willow needed her. Fighting the foggy barricade, she moved closer to her wife – and hit a wall. “Will!” Raising her hands, Buffy pressed them against the invisible protection enveloping Willow. “Hey, Will? Come on. Slayer here. I’m not used to this new, magical way of traveling.”

If she hadn’t been staring so intently at Willow, Buffy might have missed the flicker in her eyelids.

Screw the magical shield or whatever it was. Needing to get to Willow and find out what was wrong, Buffy raised her hands. In one smooth motion, she slammed them into the wall. It took several repetitions before Buffy could take another step forward and pull Willow into her arms. “I saw you move, Will. Stop playing possum and tell me what the hell is going on. Is this a dream or am I really here?” Her voice thinned on the last few words. If she were really back at the ranch… Even the Slayer whimpered at the thought of all the power that trip would have needed.

“Buffy,” Willow mumbled. “I called you.” She finally blinked more normally and her eyes focused on Buffy. “You didn’t answer.”

Not used to seeing Willow this confused and out of phase, Buffy hesitated.

“I needed you.” Now Willow sounded scared, and that made Buffy’s decision easier.

Tightening her hold, Buffy kissed Willow lightly. “I was a little busy, Will. Killing an army of vamps with just Angel for backup makes it hard to have a conversation. If you’d have pulled up a tombstone and waited, I would have gotten back to you.” She didn’t mention her own earlier (failed) attempt to reach Willow through their link.

“Oh.” Willow chewed on her lip in a familiar gesture. “I guess…I didn’t realize you were having trouble, too.” Her eyes flickered frantically around the library. “We were attacked.” She didn’t appear to notice that nothing and no one - except them - moved.

Buffy kept her voice as casual as possible. “I saw that. You started to tell me about the Bringers…” _And Anya_. “Why don’t you give me all the details?” She did her own examination of the room.

“No!” Willow twisted in Buffy’s arms. Her hair whipped back and forth as she shook her head in denial.

Buffy held Willow as gently as she could while refusing to let her get away. “Stop it, Will!” She felt the fine tremors working through the body in her arms. Fighting off a set of answering shudders, Buffy peered into Willow’s wide eyes. “Tell me, Will. Please.”

She thought she was prepared for the story. After all, Buffy was a Slayer and used to the realities of fighting evil. However, as Willow began to speak, Buffy knew she had overestimated her experience.  “I killed him, Buffy. Burned him,” Willow whispered in an agonized voice. “He screamed. I can still hear it. It’s in my head and won’t go away.”

For a second, Buffy floundered. She’d dealt with her own post-battle demons alone...was still dealing with many of them. “Will…” Buffy stopped and let the Slayer’s essence reach out for Willow. It was awkward, not what she was used to. It seemed to work, though. Willow relaxed fractionally into her embrace. “Baby, you did what you had to do.”

Willow flinched. “No. No, I didn’t have to do that. Didn’t you hear me? I lost control. I nearly burned all of us up. I…”

Rushing in, Buffy said more sternly, “Stop it, Will! You _didn’t_ lose control. Look! Everyone’s alive, and we’re together. That’s the important thing. Maybe you got close to the edge, but you managed to pull back.” She flexed her arms, shaking Willow slightly. “Now stop trying to freak out.”

A soggy sniffle sounded before Willow’s lips lifted in a tiny smile. “No more freaking, Buffy. Promise.”

“That’s my girl,” Buffy said, barely able to refrain from groaning at the clichéd and condescending comment.

Willow giggled, though. “You’re funny.” When the laughter subsided, she straightened in Buffy’s arms. “Thanks for keeping me from running for the hills. I thought I was over all that. Guess not.”

“You only get to run when I can go with you.” Buffy pursed her lips and looked around. “Um…maybe that should have been ‘when I can really go with you.’” Despite the clarity of her view of the living room, Buffy didn’t believe she was physically there.

“Oops.” Willow didn’t actually sound apologetic for bringing Buffy to her. “I can send you back. When I lost it, I kind of recreated a spell I did by accident a few days ago…only _this_ time, I brought you here instead of taking myself to Sunnydale.”

There was a long story behind that, Buffy realized. She also realized they didn’t really have the time to go into it here and now. “You and me…someplace private…big talk,” she warned.

Willow nodded. “Make sure to bring some mochas back with you,” she answered with a grin. Warm lips brushed Buffy’s throat and then Willow wiggled out of Buffy’s arms.

Pouting at the loss of contact, Buffy felt their connection starting to waver. The inner warmth she associated with Willow turned cool along the edges. “Will, I think you need to hurry. Something isn’t right.”

***

The Bringers around Faith froze for a second at her announcement. Faith, however, was already in motion. Her sword a shining silver blur, she decapitated the two robed figures nearest her.

Blood sprayed everywhere, covering the floor and soaking Faith. The smell and the warm, sticky feel of it clinging to her skin choked her. Gritting her teeth and breathing through her mouth, Faith fought on. She could puke when the Hellmouth was closed.

She wrenched the sword in a return arc. The Bringers were ready for her now. One stepped into her swing and blocked the blade with his daggers. The twin knives tangled with the sword, nearly pulling it from Faith’s hand. “Listen, you fucker, you ain’t gonna beat me that way,” she snarled. Kicking out with her right foot, Faith slammed her heel into the Bringer’s stomach.

With a pained grunt, he doubled over and her sword was free - just in time to catch a thrust from another Bringer.

Faith threw the dagger to the side with a flick of her wrist and jabbed the hilt of her sword into the new attacker’s face. A satisfying crunch followed the contact.

Taking a moment, Faith scanned the basement. Kirstan was down the stairs and clearing a path in her direction. The rest of the Scoobies…

Faith lost track of them as another wave of Bringers surged forward. Her focus narrowed to the fight. There were so many bodies and blades coming at her. Faith swung and ducked mechanically. The sight and smell of the blood stopped gagging her. The screams of her victims stopped ringing in her ears. Faith let the Slayer have free reign and moved across the room.

She reached her goal - and staggered in surprise. Despite Willow’s description of her vision, Spike’s bloody and carved body dangling over a slowly opening section of the concrete floor stopped Faith in her tracks.

“It took you long enough to get here,” a familiar, accented voice commented. “I’m so disappointed, Faith. I was sure you’d outgrow your tendency for tardiness.”

The sounds of battle behind Faith faded away. “Diana?” she whispered disbelievingly. It couldn’t be. Shuffling forward, Faith peered into the shadows created by the fire roaring in a large brazier.

Looking far better – not to mention more alive – than the last time Faith saw her, Diana Dormer strolled across the concrete floor. “Were you expecting someone else, my dear?” A single eyebrow arched over cold blue eyes.

“Uh…” Faith struggled to make sense of everything. Diana…this couldn’t be Diana. She’d seen Kakistos kill her in Boston.

Faith’s next breath tore at her throat.

She’d never even considered the possibility that her first Watcher hadn’t died in that warehouse. If Kakistos had turned her…Faith yanked her shields down without thinking. “Fuck!” She recoiled immediately, mind clanging from the power and endless evil in front of her.

“So pathetic. Surely you can come up with something more appropriate, Faith.” The First smiled with Diana’s lips. “Perhaps not, though. You were never really suited for your Calling. Nothing like Rupert’s Slayer at all.”

Faith took an unsteady step away from the First. She _knew_ this wasn’t Diana. Her insides twisted and churned from its touch on her senses. That didn’t stop the sharp stab of familiar rage at the seemingly ever-present comparison to Buffy. Her hand tightened around the sword hilt, and the blade rose until the tip pointed directly at the apparition.

“Look out!” Kirstan’s cry interrupted Faith’s move toward the First. The words still echoed in the basement as the older Slayer crashed into Faith, tumbling them both to the ground.

Pinned to the floor by Kirstan’s weight, Faith could only watch as the Bringer above them drove the dagger meant for her into Kirstan’s back.

 

A/N: Professor Diana Dormer is a character in the novel _Go Ask Malice_ by Robert Joseph Levy. She was Faith’s first Watcher. I do not, at this time, have any plans to borrow more than just the good professor from that work. The Faith in this fanfiction is _not_ the Faith of the novel. I do not recommend the book, tbh. It does no justice the the Faith that Eliza created on screen.


	53. Chapter 53

Kirstan’s soft moan echoed like a gong in Faith’s ears. She stared helplessly into the older Slayer’s eyes as they widened – and then turned dark with pain. Gripping Kirstan’s arms, Faith tried to shift to one side, to move Kirstan out of the way. The Bringer had another blade, and, at that moment, they were both vulnerable.

Phantom agony burned through Faith as she carefully lay Kirstan on the floor. Struggling for breath against the feeling, Faith sprang to her feet and took a defensive stance. She did _not_ glance down to see if Kirstan was breathing. She was. Faith believed that. She _had_ to believe it.

The Slayer growled in her mind. If Kirstan was dead, the last thread of control over the beast inside would be gone. Everything she had gained since returning to Sunnydale would be for nothing.

Letting only a hint of that fear leak out, Faith glared at the empty eye sockets of the Bringer in front of her. “Bad move, motherfucker.”

His only response to her threat was a chilling smile. The blade in his right hand flashed in the firelight as the Bringer lunged at her.

Faith pushed off with her right foot and took a long step with her left. The blade passed by, mere millimeters from her stomach. The Bringer was fully extended now. It was exactly what Faith had hoped. Her right leg snapped off the ground, knee cocked high in front of her waist for an instant before she drove the side of her foot into the Bringer’s lower ribs.

The sound of crunching bones filled the air, and Faith gave a feral grin.

Not waiting for the Bringer to recover, Faith maintained her balance on her left foot. Her right foot returned to a position in front of her and then lashed out again. This time, she caught the Bringer under the chin with her instep. His head went back, accompanied by a heavier crack, and he slumped lifelessly to the floor.

In one smooth movement, Faith spun and dropped to her knees next to the fallen Kirstan. “You OK, Old Timer?” She touched Kirstan’s shoulder, and blood immediately stained her hand. “Fuck!” Jerking back, she scrubbed her sticky fingers on her pants.

“You have such a difficult time protecting your family, don’t you, Faithy?” Faith didn’t need to look up to imagine the disappointed frown on Richard Wilkin’s face. “I must be losing my touch. I was so sure I’d picked the right Slayer for the job. Look at you now, though…” He trailed off, and Faith slowly dragged her eyes from Kirstan’s motionless form.

Looking exactly as he had three years ago, the former Mayor of Sunnydale stared back at her. “You think B woulda been any better?” she choked out. The growing sense of evil and the suffocating pain in her chest made it hard to talk. Faith was determined, though. Ignoring the pain, she surged to her feet. “You never would have even made it to your Big Day with her on the team, _Boss_.” She spat out the title and took two quick steps forward.

This was the First. Not the Mayor. Faith repeated that over and over as she stared at Wilkin’s face. The First. The reason they were all down here in the basement. The reason Kirstan was bleeding at her feet.

“You chose the only Slayer dumb enough to buy your load of crap.” Faith kept up the flood of bitter words. If she could keep the thing in front of her sidetracked long enough…

Her ploy might have worked if both she _and_ the First hadn’t been distracted by the bolt of blue lightening that slammed into the partially opened Seal. An explosion rocked the room on impact, staggering Faith.

The First reeled back as well, arms windmilling comically.

Knowing it wouldn’t do any good to attack the off-balance figure, Faith turned her attention to Spike. He was the cause of the opening Seal. Picking up the dead Bringer’s dagger, she rushed in his direction even as the floor beneath her feet heaved a second time.  

Before Faith could reach Spike, a man dressed all in black stepped out of the shadows. The white tab at his collar gleamed in the gloom. “You will not stop the Lord’s work, harlot,” he drawled in a booming voice.

Faith paused. Who the fuck was this? A quick glance showed the Mayor on the other side of the Seal. Not the First. Not daring to probe with her Slayer senses, she dropped into a defensive crouch and extended the curved knife. “Ya’ know, I’m fucking tired of everybody thinkin’ I’m a whore. I got some standards. Like, I ain’t never slept with a vampire.”

There was no visible reaction to her taunt. Probably not a vampire then.

“Repent!” The man thundered. “Repent before you burn for your sins!”

She didn’t have time for this. “Shut the fuck up and get outta the way.” Faith slid to his right and threw a hard jab at his stomach. Keyed up and desperate to get to Spike, Faith didn’t hold back on the power of her punch.

However, it still didn’t land. The man swept her arm away with a contemptuous laugh. Then he stepped forward and seized her by the lapels of her jacket. “And I will cast you down through the Gates of Hell,” he announced.

Faith realized he might be right. The Seal was almost completely open. Red light poured out of the opening, backlighting her attacker. Raising both hands over her head, she brought her forearms together in front of her face and slammed her elbows down into his wrists.

He let go with a bellow.

Rolling away, Faith shifted her focus. She had to get to the Seal. As it continued to open, clawed hands emerged from the Hellmouth below.

***

Willow gripped Buffy tighter. Her wife wasn’t going anywhere – not if Willow could help it. “I’ve got you,” she vowed. Did she, though? A quick internal check left that in doubt. Her hold on Buffy’s astral form eroded more and more with every passing second.

That was bad. 

Worse, something tugged Buffy toward Sunnydale. Willow peered along their link to discover the cause. She did a little tugging of her own.

“Uh, Will? I kinda feel like a Buffy-shaped wishbone.” Buffy’s voice was tight and it seemed to fade in and out with each word. “You want to tell me what’s going on?”

“I can’t keep you here,” Willow whispered sadly. At least, not without risking another magical meltdown – or pulling Buffy apart. Neither option rated very high. “Something is dragging you back to Sunnydale.” The peace she’d gained from Buffy’s presence was already draining away. Willow did _not_ want to face Giles and the rest of the gang, not alone. Not without Buffy. There were too many unanswered questions and too many plans to make. Willow wasn’t a leader. She was a researcher.

Buffy kissed her softly. “Then I guess I need to go, huh?” Reaching up, she pushed Willow’s bangs out of her eyes. “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.” Her sad and tired smile indicated she knew exactly how Willow was feeling. “I think…” Buffy frowned. “I think I have to go. I can really feel the pull now, too.”

She stepped away, and Willow wrapped her arms around herself. It was a poor substitute. “Hurry back. Please.” She didn’t say anything else. Buffy didn’t need to hear her break down again.

As she watched, Buffy began to fade.

“Willow?” Giles asked from behind her. The spell holding the real world in stasis was fading as well. “Buffy? How did you…?”

“Can’t talk, Giles.” Buffy shrugged and pointed to Willow with a transparent finger. “Ask the witch.” By the time she finished, Willow could barely see the outline of her wife’s body.

Giles surged forward. “Buffy! The Scythe!” he shouted. “Did you find it?”

There was no verbal answer. Willow felt a faint echo of agreement through the dissipating link with Buffy. “Yes,” she answered for the now-missing Buffy. “She has it, Giles.” Something else trickled into her mind. Grinning faintly, Willow dropped her head.

“Is there something else?” Giles gently gripped Willow’s shoulder.

“Nothing about the Scythe, Giles.” There was no way Willow was sharing the Slayer’s parting shot. They’d _both_ be blushing if she did that. Resigning herself to reality, Willow straightened. “We need to get the shields back in place. Can you take care of the injured while Dawn and I do some magical construction work?”

He wanted to argue – or ask more questions. Willow recognized the look from Giles’ pursed lips and squinted eyes.

Forestalling that, she quickly turned and walked away. There were no answers to his questions, and Willow wasn’t prepared to play nurse. “Dawn,” she called out to the group still hovering over Anya, “I need your help.”

Red-rimmed eyes turned in her direction. “Now? What about Anya?”

Willow took a deep breath. With as much delicacy as she could, she answered, “There are a lot of people to watch over her, Dawnie. You and I, though…we’re the only ones who can keep the First from getting more of his henchmen onto the ranch.”

***

Buffy snarled soundlessly at the Slayer. A hint of laughter and the echo arousal answered. Great. Now they were all turned on – and nowhere near the Love Den. She opened her eyes.

Restfield Cemetery looked just the way she’d left it. Dark, creepy, and scented with vampires.

Hefting the Scythe, Buffy turned in a slow circle and searched for more prey. The night seethed with the unique energy signatures of vampires. Farther away, Buffy felt…something else. Something far more powerful and dangerous.

Her lips curled in a smirk as one of the vampires moved in close. Fool. Buffy pivoted on the ball of her right foot, stepping into the attack. The Scythe began an upward arc. The vampire would be dust in seconds.

“Buffy? Is everything OK?” Angel asked.

His voice and the concerned look in his yellow eyes penetrated an instant before Buffy cut him in half. Her muscles screamed with strain as she tightened her grip on the Scythe and tried to stop the blow.

Both of them stared in horror as the blade came to rest on the stylish leather belt around his waist.

“Newsflash, Angel. Don _not_ sneak up on me.” Shaking at the close call – and the need to kill flooding through her, Buffy dropped the weapon to her side, still clutching tightly. “This _thing_ only sees the vamp. Soul or not, _ex_ or not, you’re target practice.”

Angel took a big step away and held his hands up in surrender. “I’ll make sure to write that down.” For an instant, his fangs glimmered in the moonlight as he smiled. “We’ve got more company on the way. Are you sure the Scythe isn’t affecting you in other ways? You were in some kind of trance when I got here.”

“It’s a long story,” Buffy said. Turning in the direction of the old high school, she started running. “Hurry up. I don’t want to fight another army of your long lost cousins.” The new horde was closing in. If they didn’t leave the cemetery now, she and Angel would soon be surrounded.

“Buffy…” She heard the frustration in Angel’s voice, but the sound of his footsteps followed her.

“Shut up and run.” Buffy didn’t slow her pace. Whatever was happening with the Seal was flaring along her senses. “Before I explain about my mental vacation, you need to tell me how the hell the First recruited so many vampires. Six years on the Hellmouth and I’ve never seen this many in one place.”


	54. Chapter 54

“Hard to do that if I’m not talking and running,” Angel commented with a wry smile. His long strides ate up ground, and Buffy picked up her pace to match.

Brandishing the Scythe as they left Restfield behind, Buffy waited to see if Angel would take the hint.

A dark eyebrow rose in response. “I’m telling Willow not to let you play with that thing while I’m around. It makes you violent.” Then, probably sensing the growl growing deep inside Buffy, Angel finally answered her question. “As a rule, vampires are very family oriented. Not like humans; it’s more of a tie through the bloodline of the Sire. You should know that from the Master.”

“Yeah. He had a couple hundred lackeys. Can’t you feel the numbers here, though?” Buffy didn’t even have to reach out to sense the vampires chasing after them. “Not only does the First have an army, none of us even knew they were here when we drove into town. How do you cloak a group this big?” How do we beat something that strong? Buffy didn’t voice her real question.

When Angel laughed, she was glad she’d held it back. “Buffy, we’re facing the First Evil. I know you missed a lot of the research sessions, but you should remember how powerful it is. It had me standing outside waiting to see the sun come up.”

The Scythe tingled. “Hold that thought. We have company.” Buffy slid to stop and turned. “Doesn’t look like many. This must be a scouting party.” She reached farther, and felt the Scythe respond along with her enhanced senses. “Six of them, coming up Milpas.”

Another tingle vibrated through the Scythe.

“Shit.” The small group wasn’t scouting. It had simply outdistanced the horde behind them. “Angel…” Buffy started to warn him.

“You talk too much. Shut up and run.” He gripped her shoulder and dragged her down the street until Buffy managed to get back on pace. “We head for the high school. No stopping or fighting unless we get cut off.”

It sounded like a good plan. Way better than going two against several hundred vampires, out in the open and with only a couple of weapons between them. Buffy ran on autopilot; the Scythe was a constant presence in her mind. It was different than her awareness of the Slayer. Different – and far more deadly. Shivering, Buffy fought the cold, inhuman drive to kill the vampires pursuing them even as her legs grew heavier and it became difficult to keep up with Angel.

The gap between them widened. Buffy’s lungs burned and she strained to keep running. “Angel!” she called out. “Stop!” _Please!_ The final word echoed in her head even though it never made it past her lips.

Buffy never knew whether Angel heard her plea. Pulled around by an unseen hand, she faced the now visible vampires and dropped into a fighting stance.

***

Son of a bitch. Faith stared at the misshapen fingers gripping the basement’s concrete floor in horror. They had to get the Seal closed. Now. Before…whatever that was made it through the opening. Tightening her grip on her dagger, Faith sprinted for Spike.

He looked up at her through swollen eyes. “Slayer. What the bloody hell took you so long? Stop on the way to have a good shag?” The words were barely audible through his bloodied lips, and the look in his eyes didn’t match the sardonic humor in his voice.

Spike knew the score. Faith’s fingers ached from the force of her grip on her weapon. “Nah. Went to the Bronze for some bumpin’ and grindin’. Bet you remember the way I can move to the music,” she taunted, stepping closer.

The dagger rose in slow motion until the shining blade rested against Spike’s throat.

“I…” Faith didn’t have a clue what to say. It didn’t matter that Spike was a vampire. Not now. He’d been a part – however reluctantly – of the Scooby gang for years, and Buffy respected him.

“Stupid bint. I thought you were better than Buffy.” Spike wasn’t pushing the way the First had when it had donned the Mayor’s visage. He was serious. “Faith the Dark Slayer. You don’t have the same morals as the rest of the kiddies. You know what needs to happen. Do it!”

Scuffling and frenzied movement started up behind Faith. She didn’t look away from Spike to check it out. “Tell the folks in Hell hi for me, Blondie.” Blinded by tears, Faith ripped the dagger to the right. Blood showered her face and torso, the wall and floor. Spike’s head sagged back…still attached. Barely able to keep from dropping to her knees and vomiting, Faith repeated the slash in the opposite direction to complete the grisly task.

Eyes glued to Spike’s blank and empty eyes, Faith watched as his head dropped toward the floor. It and his body turned to dust before it landed.

A scream of rage echoed through the basement.

Faith spun to face the cause of the sound. “Looks like the gatecrashers is goin’ home empty handed,” she taunted the First. It still wore the Mayor’s face, and now Faith knew why the Scoobies had destroyed him. His eyes were flat and cold, and the evil inside blazed in the irises.

Behind the First, the fighting drew closer. Faith tried to pick out her crew among the Bringers while maintaining her watch on the First.

“You’ll pay for that, Faithy,” the Mayor snarled. He took a threatening step forward.

Ready to defend herself if the First attacked, Faith spotted Tara and Drew. The two were trapped in a corner near the shelves of files, and spheres of blue flame whirled between them and a pair of Bringers. “What are you gonna do, Dick?” Faith asked, not really caring. Her eyes bounced to the floor nearby.

Kirstan’s body was gone!

Her muscles turned to Jell-O, and Faith nearly lost her grip on her dagger. Where was Kirstan? She gave up paying attention to the First completely.  She had to find Kirstan. Faith started to skirt the Mayor and go hunting for the older Slayer.

She never made it.

A body hurtled out of the shadows and slammed into her. They tumbled to the concrete with Faith on the bottom. “It will not be the Lord who gives you your just reward, harlot.” Her attacker was the black-clad man from earlier, and he picked up his rant without missing a beat.

Faith wasn’t listening this time. Hooking his left ankle with her right leg and pinning his right arm between them, Faith turned her hips to the right in single, sharp motion. In less than a second, their positions on the floor had been reversed. “You ain’t got what it takes to give me anything,” she told him. She hit him just under the chin with her right fist.

Unfortunately, it didn’t have the effect she expected. Although he grunted and his head snapped to the side, the man continued to struggle. “You would be surprised what the Lord’s Right Hand can accomplish!” He twisted suddenly, and Faith tumbled off her perch.

She barely had time to bend her knees to her chest before the man threw himself at her again. Catching his body with her feet, Faith thrust hard. With a growl, he lofted into the air. Faith didn’t wait to see where he landed. She scrambled to her feet and looked around.

The battle finally seemed to be dying off. The Scoobies appeared to be the victors since the bodies on the floor all wore dark robes. Wesley and Gunn staggered in her direction, weapons at the ready.

Faith’s senses sounded an alarm. Without looking, she ducked and kicked backward with her right foot. The heel _should_ have slammed into… Buffy?

“Next time, Faith, I’ll finish what I started on that roof.” Buffy’s lips turned up in a chilling smile. “I can’t wait to feel your blood on my hands; it’ll be quite a ride.” She vanished a second later.

“Faith?” Wesley moved up next to her. “Are you hurt?” He probably thought she was from the way Faith stood numbly staring at the empty spot in front of them. His hand landed lightly on her shoulder. “Faith?”

Slowly and stiffly, Faith pivoted under Wesley’s hand. “I’m good,” she lied. “Ain’t like Phantom B had much of a punch.” Not physically, anyway. Faith felt the scar on her stomach burn, though, at the cold promise in First Buffy’s eyes. She held back a shudder, and met Wesley’s concerned eyes.

“Perhaps we should make our way back upstairs?” She could see from the worried frown on his forehead that Wesley didn’t completely believe her words.

“In a minute, Wes.” Faith had a few other things she had to do. Stepping away from him, she sucked in a deep breath and made a careful examination of the room. Each robed body became a mental tally mark next to the ones she maintained for Allen Finch, the Professor, and the man she’d nearly killed outside the bus station in Los Angeles. The total… Faith’s knees quivered. There were over fifty corpses.

Locking her knees, Faith reminded herself that none of the dead – not one – was a Scooby. “Get T and the witches, Wes. The Hellmouth ain’t closed.” The clawed hand was gone, but the steel Seal gaped open nearly an inch. “We fix that, we’re outta here.”

“The girls and I can easily take care of it.” Jennifer’s voice came out of nowhere, and Faith’s head whipped back and forth as she looked for Willow’s mother.

A few feet to her left, the air shimmered. When it stabilized, Jennifer and a still-prone Kirstan were revealed.

“Holy fuck!” Faith stumbled toward them and dropped to her knees next to Kirstan. She didn’t actually see Jennifer leave; the space across Kirstan’s body simply emptied. “You still with us, Old Timer?” _Please_ , she begged in her mind.

“You don’t get it yet, do you, Faith?” Kirstan asked. The words were slurred and soft; although, the humor was clearly evident. “I’m a Slayer, and we’re pretty hard to kill.”

Blinking back tears, Faith sagged in relief. “Don’t know about that, Kirstan. B’s been dead a few times. Ya’ might want to think about saying Slayers is hard to _keep_ dead.” Faith’s voice wavered on the last few words, and she cleared her throat. “Hang tight for a second, and let me see if your girl did her job. Soon as the Seal’s locked up again, we’ll get you home.” Reaching out, she touched Kirstan’s arm before standing.

***

Buffy watched the vampires approach in seeming slow motion. Each step. Each raised weapon. It all filtered as if she were examining a piece of film frame by frame. By the time the first attacker reached her, Buffy ached with readiness. The vampire swung a heavy, two-handed sword at her. Moonlight glinted on the sharp edge closest to Buffy.

And in that instant, the special effects blinked out.

The Scythe whipped forward as if it was spring-loaded, and the vampire disappeared in a cloud of dust. Although Buffy and the Slayer knew the odds of survival were nil, they threw back their head and a primal battle cry pierced the air. Hands wrapped around the Scythe’s handle, Buffy stepped forward to meet the wave of vampires, swinging the weapon in a deadly back and forth motion.

Like she had in Restfield, Buffy saw the fight in flashes and brief stabs of feeling. She tried to pay attention. Even caught up in the Scythe’s bloodlust, Buffy knew it was important to be aware of her location in relation to the horde of vampires. She needed a solid estimate of how many she’d faced – and how many were left.

It was like swimming in syrup. Buffy grappled mentally with the Scythe. She was…several yards in front of Angel. The vampires were surrounding her. Cutting her off from the school and her only other ally. The Scythe won out. The knowledge faded under the thrill of seeing five more vampires sprinkle the ground with their last remains.

Buffy’s berserker advance stopped abruptly as a dagger slashed deeply into her right thigh.

Screaming in shock and pain, she staggered and the head of the Scythe dropped to the ground. One hand came off the haft and pressed to the wound. The lessened contact with the weapon broke the thrall holding Buffy. Shivering from the rapid loss of blood, Buffy squinted up at the vampires moving closer. The hundreds had been thinned – but not nearly enough.

The pain didn’t matter. Buffy bit her lip and levered herself onto her feet using the Scythe as a crutch. Removing her blood-covered hand from her thigh, she regained her two-handed grip on the axe. For once, she willingly surrendered to the power of the weapon, and the world around her faded away.

Humming and gleaming, the Scythe sliced through more vampires.

In the small part of her mind still free, Buffy wasn’t sure how long she might have lasted. Luckily, she didn’t have to find out. An explosion rocked the ground. Buffy and the group of vampires nearby stumbled, and the fight broke off with the need to remain standing. Even as they wind milled and swayed, a second repercussion followed.

Plaster and concrete from the old school rained down, and the structure groaned in protest. No one moved; they all stood and stared at the high school. Would it come down around them?

The falling debris didn’t get any bigger, and the answer seemed to be “no.”  The school continued to stand. So did the vampires. Looking back and forth, seemingly confused and disoriented, they didn’t resume their attack.

Whatever was affecting them wasn’t affecting Buffy. She forced herself forward, shoving vampires aside or killing them if they didn’t cooperated my moving. Angel stood with his back to a rapidly crumbling wall and faced several armed vampires. “Sorry, guys. I know he’s a pain in the ass; I just can’t let you kill him,” Buffy quipped. The Scythe made quick work of the motionless vampires as she joined Angel.

“Better late than never,” Angel commented softly. “Have you seen the rest of the gang?”

“No. Hang on.” The remaining vampires were starting to mill around. Buffy reached past them, searching for Faith. Whatever had been short-circuiting her senses was gone. She brushed the other Slayer through their bond, and felt a tired acknowledgement and a firm ‘suggestion’ to head for the other side of the school. “They’re on the way. Let’s go. The van’s over by the science wing.”


	55. Chapter 55

The Scythe tried to resist as Buffy jogged away from the last of the vampires. This time, Buffy was ready. Using a touch of the Slayer, she mentally shoved at the visceral need pouring from the weapon in her hands. Years of caging her more primal instincts helped. With a howl of protest, the Scythe retreated.

Minutes later, the van came into view. The side door was open and the dim interior lighting revealed bodies sprawled inside. Frowning, Buffy peered harder – and her pace picked up despite the pain in her injured thigh. “Faith!”

The other Slayer turned her head and waved a tired acknowledgement. “Get in, B. You can bug me with questions on the way back. Kirstan needs more’n bandages and kisses, and Wes’s got his lead foot on the gas.”

As soon as Faith spoke, Buffy zeroed in on Kirstan. She was pale, and blood visibly stained a torn shirt that had been expertly tied diagonally across her body. “Got it. Just make sure I’m close to a handle. The last time I was in a van with a Watcher behind the wheel…” Forcing a grin as they shared a look at the troubling memories, Buffy carefully clambered into the back and wedged herself against the far side. “Let’s just say I was really hoping you felt the bruises the next day.”

For a second, Buffy was sure Faith flinched at the comment. She must have been mistaken, though, because as Angel took a seat next to Tara and Drew, Faith smirked. “You havin’ an out of Buffy day, B?” she asked as she slammed the sliding door and flopped into a sitting position as the tires squealed.

They were quiet for the next few minutes, and Buffy felt her muscles slowly relaxing – until she realized there was a Scooby missing. “Where’s Spike?”

Everyone froze, except to look away.

“Faith?” Buffy’s hands tightened around the Scythe, and she leaned forward. “ _Where. Is. Spike?_ ” In case she’d mumbled the first time, Buffy clearly enunciated the question when she repeated it.

***

 "He’s dust, B.” Faith couldn’t meet Buffy’s eyes; although, she managed to keep her voice mostly steady. “There was some fucker crawlin’ outta Hell, and I didn’t have time to cut him loose.” The scar on her stomach ached dully, and Faith absently rubbed it. “Think he knew it was comin’,” she finished, hoping that would help.

Buffy didn’t say anything, and Faith forced herself to glance up. A single tear streaked down Buffy’s face. “Spike was a Scooby.”

Four simple words, yet Faith felt each one pound into her. “Yeah, B; he was.” Scoobies didn’t die. It was the first rule of the Slayerettes, and Faith had broken it. Straightening her shoulders and raising her chin, Faith met Buffy’s eyes. “I had to kill him, B. It was the only way.” Chills raced over Faith’s skin when Buffy’s gaze mutated from hazel to a burning copper.

“I thought we were going to save him,” Buffy said.

“No.” The disagreement squeaked out of Faith’s tight throat. “You mighta wanted that, B. Too bad the _real_ job was keepin’ the rest of us alive and closin’ that fucking Seal. Spike was – maybe – a bonus.” Faith took a slow breath. Buffy’s Slayer hadn’t backed down, and a warning tingle highlighted the growing unhappiness of her own primal warrior. Fuck. Gritting her teeth and holding onto control, Faith snapped, “Be pissed if ya’ want, B, and then get over it. Spike’s dust. The Hellmouth’s closed. We won this time.”

The mundane sound of road noise and late night traffic was suddenly loud inside the van. Faith trembled with pent up adrenaline as she waited for Buffy’s response. “Spike wasn’t…” Buffy’s eyes dropped, letting Faith out of the spotlight of the Slayer’s gaze. “He wasn’t _helping_ , was he?”

Faith sagged. “No, B.” She remembered the look in his eyes as she’d raised the dagger. “Spike was a Scoob, fangs and all. Got fuckin’ pushy when he thought I didn’t have the balls to do the deed.”

“Thanks,” Buffy whispered, and Faith wasn’t sure for what.

“B-Buffy?” Tara interrupted their not so private conversation. “How d-did you and Ang-Angel do? Is th-that the Scythe?” She pointed at the double-headed axe in Buffy’s lap.

As if sensing the sudden interest of everyone in the van, Buffy held up the weapon. “Yeah.”  She paused, and Faith (along with the rest of the gang) leaned in, hoping for more. “It’s great for killing vamps. I think we took out most of the First’s army tonight.”

There was something Buffy wasn’t saying, though. Faith knew it. Or…her Slayer did. A tickle brushed along the edges of Faith’s awareness. It was light, barely noticeable. It was enough, though, to bring the Slayer fully awake. Bracing against the sensation and the spiking aggression deep inside, Faith asked, “That’s it? You and Red shared that fucking weird dream, and all it does is dust vamps?”  Her voice faded to a near growl at the end; the Slayer was winning the internal battle for control.

“The van isn’t big enough for sparring, ladies.” Kirstan’s voice might have been a mere wisp of sound; however, the bite was loud and clear. “Stop playing with the Slayers and start thinking!”

Faith turned her head and felt the Slayer snarl at Kirstan’s intrusion. “Kinda hard to do that, Old Timer, with the grunting and growlin’ in my head. You got a way to make the bitch back down?” She was more than happy to listen, if that was the case.

Kirstan didn’t have a chance to answer. “Don’t fight her, Faith.” Buffy smiled slightly when Faith looked at her in disbelief. “I know. I’m the original ‘Keep the Slayer Locked Up Girl.’ I’ve turned over a new leaf, and it isn’t as scary as I thought.”

“Sounds good, B, but you was right there with me a second ago,” Faith pointed out. She could still feel the pull of her Slayer, and she sensed the incredible strength of Buffy’s.

Amazingly, Buffy shook her head. “No, I wasn’t. I’m betting it was the Scythe. It’s…Let’s just say it has a mind of its own, and it doesn’t take ‘no’ for an answer without a fight. When I grabbed it the first time, there was so much _power._ I couldn’t handle it on my own so I let the Slayer help me. She’s been there ever since.”

“If I could raise my arms without bleeding to death, I’d clap,” Kirstan commented dryly. “That’s the way it’s supposed to work, ladies. We’ll stick Faith in a room with the Scythe and her Slayer later. Right now, we need to refocus. Why the dream? What are we missing?” Her voice faded away, and her breathing grew more labored.

Fighting off the need to crawl to Kirstan’s side and check to make sure she stayed alive, Faith dragged her eyes back to Buffy. “You and Red told us about the axe, B. What about the rest?”

“I don’t know.” Buffy leaned against the side of the van and chewed her lip. “The other two parts were more the normal Slayer dream weird. Unless I’m supposed to poison the First with a Doublemeat Medley…” She trailed off and gave Faith a helpless look. “I don’t know. Anybody else have any ideas?”

“Not about Willow and spilled soda,” Drew murmured. “The Mass, though.” She sat forward at the same time Tara’s eyes widened. “I think we may have a little more information about that part.”

***

Dawn scowled, clearly not happy with Willow’s comment. “ _You’re_ the only one here who can do magic, Willow. I only got the intro lesson.”

Holding on to her patience with a tight grip, Willow disagreed. “No, Dawnie. The magic is inside you. I wasn’t able,” or willing, “to teach you how to manipulate it. If you work with me, though, we can pool our energies and raise a ward around the ranch house.” At least, Willow hoped it would work that way. The thought of dipping so heavily into her reservoirs – after what had happened earlier – scared her.

“Oh.” Dawn appeared to mull that over. “I did that with Tara when…when she and Faith got to Sunnydale.”

Willow itched with curiosity at that. Tara had never been one to do magic without cause. She didn’t have time to probe for answers, though. “Just like that,” she told Dawn. “We can link up, and you can go along for a magic carpet ride while I do my thing.”

The humor helped. Dawn’s familiar giggle sounded. “OK. Do you want to do it in here?”

“No.” Willow was very sure about that. “It’s too crowded, and I don’t want someone to break our concentration.” She took Dawn’s hand and headed for the door. “We can use the Altar Room in the basement.”

No one tried to stop them; although, Willow felt their collective gazes like a heavy weight. She was never going to tease Buffy about being in charge again. It sucked – a lot. Finally, though, they reached the hallway, and Willow took a deep breath. She’d sounded very certain when she’d laid the plan out to Dawn. As they got closer to the study, though, Willow frantically drew up and discarded idea after idea.

She still didn’t have anything concrete ready when Dawn closed the door behind them. “What do you need me to do, Willow?” she asked as they clattered down the stairs.

“Um…” Willow swept the dimly lit room below with her gaze. “For now, not much. We have to do this with all the bells and whistles.” Willow knew they needed to cast a formal Circle for Magick this big. “Why don’t you stand in the center of the circle?”

Dawn gave her a questioning look before trotting obligingly into the middle of the inset circle at the center of the room. OK. Jennifer had cast a Circle in here; that meant supplies. Willow racked her memory. Where could they be stored? She’d been too distracted (terrified, actually) to pay much attention.

The walls were smooth stone. There were no seams for even hidden cabinets. The same went for the floor.

Closing her eyes, Willow cast out, looking for the faintest of magical signatures. Jennifer’s permeated the room. It was both comforting and disconcerting. A lot of ambient power eddied through the basement. Willow narrowed her focus more. Although the arcane energy was astonishing, there were clear pockets of it in certain areas. The Circle, of course. The Altar.

Willow almost missed it.

As she scanned past the Altar, a tiny flicker in the glass-like surface of the stone table came and went. It was so small and so well hidden… With a triumphant grin, Willow opened her eyes and strode to the Altar. Now that she’d located it, the warded magical apothecary was clearly visible. She brushed the well-disguised door and it slid open. Reaching inside, Willow pulled out a pair of tiny cymbals and a single white candle. She closed the hidden cabinet and turned to Dawn.

“These are for you.” Willow held out the cymbals. “I hope you have better rhythm than Buffy. While I’m gathering the power for the outer shields, you need to clap them together every four seconds.” Feeling faintly ridiculous despite the gravity of the situation, she demonstrated using her hands. “One, two, three…” In place of a four-count, she clapped.

Tentatively, Dawn mimicked her actions.

“Just like that – only louder. You’re going to be the counterpoint to my chant.” Willow hoped she didn’t sound as freaked as she felt. She hated formal Magick. All the little rituals and steps meant more places to make mistakes.  Bending, she set the candle on the floor. “Once I have the protections here up, open yourself to the energies, Dawn. I’ll have to borrow some probably.” She smiled wryly. “I guess being the most powerful witch around seen still isn’t enough.”

Dawn didn’t smile back. She was pale and her lips pressed together in a thin, tight line.

Willow hurried on. They had to get this done before Dawn broke under the strain. “Start the chimes when you see me light the candle.” Stepping back, she raised her hands and let her consciousness flow deep into her internal Center. The shimmering pool of her reservoir greeted her, and Willow keyed the lock and let the magical waters flow. Slowly and smoothly, she let the power fill her channels.

Flush with power, Willow ‘touched’ the permanent Circle surrounding her and Dawn. As if the marker was made of straw and the magic was a torch, the glass erupted into green flame. Blowing softly, Willow encouraged those flames higher until they reached the ceiling. She increased the flow of air and the power reached superheated levels and melted into a solid sheet of energy.

The candle felt cool and almost insubstantial in her hand when Willow picked it up. It took less than a thought to light the wick. Raising the pinprick of light so the fluttering flame sat at eye-level, Willow began to chant.


	56. Chapter 56

Willow’s words reverberated through the room. She hadn’t expected that – not so quickly. The Circle amplified the chant and the power behind the arcane language. Holding onto her focus, Willow blocked out the sensation. There were no do overs with Magick of this complexity.

She repeated the incantation a second time, smiling as she felt her mastery of the energy solidify. When the power peaked, Willow stopped chanting and blew out the candle. Smoke rose from the wick. It symbolized the swirling energy in the Circle. Blowing on the faint cloud, Willow pushed it away from her. Even though the physical smoke dissipated in seconds, the metaphysical smoke did not. Willow continued to blow gently. With her eyes closed, she could trace the path of the magic as it merged with the warding.

Sweat slicked Willow’s skin and drenched her clothing. Exhaustion dragged at her limbs. Not yet. To stave off collapse – and the breakdown of the spell, Willow opened a narrow conduit and carefully tapped into Dawn’s power. The influx helped immediately.   

Raising her hands, she held them palm out and facing the warding. Her skin tingled as Willow pushed toward the shield. The Circle resisted. Its physical form was set and infused with the power of many, many rituals. Willow was attempting to alter its position. Straining the stubborn protections of the Circle, Willow pressed forward. She didn’t take a single physical step; however, her success was measured  in the movement of the Circle itself.

Slowly, the shimmering green of the wards expanded. One inch…one foot…It now stretched throughout the entire basement. Each slow gain chipped away at Willow’s own energies. Not even borrowing heavily from Dawn combated her growing exhaustion.

Unfortunately, that progress still wasn’t enough. Despite the small size of their forces, the Potentials, Watchers, and reconstituted Scoobies couldn’t cohabitate in the basement. Ignoring the way her body nearly trembled with fatigue, Willow pushed on. The magic responded sluggishly. First, the ground floor. Because of her extended senses, Willow ‘felt’ each of the people gathered in the library and the kitchen. Her lips curled in satisfaction. None of them made the warding jangle an alarm; though, the Potentials did send a ripple though the curtain of magic with their combined mystical signatures.

Not stopping in her efforts, Willow continued to direct the protections outward. Finally, they passed through the ceiling of the second floor and surrounded the exterior of the main house. Finally it was enough. It would have to be. As Willow lowered her hands, she ruefully acknowledged that she had reached her own limits.

***

When Drew didn’t continue, Faith shared a wry look with Buffy. Maybe Drew should stop trying to decide between witch and Slayer – and settle on Watcher. She had the irritating delivery patterns down already. “You gonna tell us or we gotta start guessing, Little Red?”

That got a reaction. Drew flushed and stiffened.

“D-Drew.” Tara dragged Drew’s attention away from Faith with the soft stutter. “I th-think I kn-know what y-you’re thinking, b-but can you exp-explain it anyway?”

With a stiff nod, Drew agreed. “Sure, since you _asked so nicely_ ,” she said pointedly. Avoiding Faith’s gaze, she went on. “The guy Faith fought at the school – the one in black. I think…” Now Drew _did_ look up at Faith. “Tara and I weren’t in the best spot to see. Faith, did he have a white collar on his shirt?”

“Uh…” Frowning, Faith tried to remember. “I was kinda busy. You know, not dying,” she tried to excuse. She couldn’t visualize much of the fight. She’d been too focused on Kirstan or checking on the Scoobies. Or, as she’d said, staying alive. “Maybe.” It was the best she could offer. “You think the dude was a priest?”

“It fits.” Drew leaned back and stretched. For the first time, Faith noticed that Willow’s sister hadn’t come out of the battle unscathed. In the dim illumination provided by the highway lights, she saw a grouping of bruises on Drew’s right cheek and eye. “If he _was_ wearing a Roman collar, it might be the link to the dream. We have the Scythe.” She pointed to the weapon in Buffy’s hands. “And the priest performing the Mass. Now we need to figure out why he’s important, and why Buffy and Willow were serving up burgers and fries.”

Buffy smiled sadly. “No mystery there. I’m sure it has to do with almost losing the house and Dawn after Mom died. My subconscious warning me to get my act together.”

It didn’t fit. “Sorry, B. I gotta go with no on that one. I mean, that one we shared? Please. It was like downin’ a bottle of Jack after sniffin’ glue.” That earned her stares from everyone except Wesley – who was busy driving. “What? I’m just sayin… Them dreams don’t got anything to do with normal. Why the fuck else would me and B be making a bed together?” she pleaded her case.

“If isn’t about me actually working at the DMP, why have it?” Buffy wasn’t willing to accept Faith’s assertion. Hefting the Scythe into a more comfortable position on her legs, she yawned. “What does a priest have to do with the First? You fought him, Faith. Did he seem super powerful or important? Did he say anything?”

This, at least, Faith could remember. “He packed a hell of a punch, B.” She rubbed her rib as she recalled him tackling her to the floor. “More’n that, he wouldn’t go down. I whaled on him and he just came back for more.” More interested in this conversation now that she could contribute something, Faith sat up. “He did a lot of talkin’, too.” Smiling grimly, Faith said, “He was on the Scooby party line. Told me I was a whore and on my way to Hell.” Waving off Buffy’s tardy protest, Faith shrugged. “And he kept goin’ on and on about the Lord.”

Breaking off, Faith concentrated on recalling his comments word for word. “I can’t remember all of it.” She rubbed her forehead. “Mostly he wanted me to know I wasn’t bein’ a good little Slayer. Ah…the ‘Lord’s just reward’ is what I was getting’.” There had been something else. Right before the First had gone all Buffy. Faith couldn’t look at the real Buffy at the moment as she dredged up that memory. “Preacher Guy also claimed to be the ‘Lord’s Right Hand,’ whatever the fuck that is.”

Wesley’s voice drifted back from the front of the van. “Intriguing. I cannot remember a single reference to the First Evil needing any type of servant. The Bringers are there only to assist in calling it forth and, of course, filling the ranks of its army.”

“How does that help, Wes?” Faith was too tired to let him go into the full-blown explanation. She wanted Cliff’s Notes.

“I daresay you won’t be pleased to hear that I do not know.” His eyes stared at her through the rear view mirror. “However, it does suggest that there is information regarding the First’s rise to prominence we have yet to uncover.”

Did he think that was good news? Faith briefly considered turning to Buffy and handing back her newly-acquired rank. She didn’t know how to handle any of this. Unfortunately, when she looked in Buffy’s direction, Buffy’s tiny smirk of satisfaction told her this was a normal part of the learning curve. And, of course, it was obvious that Buffy wasn’t going to bail Faith out anytime soon.

Grimacing, Faith cleared her throat. “Guess we’ll be hittin’ the books again when we get to the homestead.” Pointing at Drew, she started handing out assignments. “That’s your job, Little Red. Whatever, _who_ ever you need. Round ‘em up and start looking. If this guy’s a major player for the First, I wanna know now – not when he kicks our ass.”

“My name is _Drew_. D…R…E…W.” A laser-like glare accompanied Drew’s sharp retort.

This was more like it. Grinning, Faith ignored Drew’s irritation. “Don’t matter. You look like Red…only you ain’t. So Little Red works for me. Deal and move on. We got bigger shit to worry about.”

“What about this?” Buffy held out the Scythe. “We have it. What do we do with it?”

“Sounds like a job for your girl, B. Now that she’s the Superwitch, maybe she can make it do more than kill vamps.” Faith shrugged. It was the best she had to offer. Buffy was taking the whole not being in charge thing too far. She knew Faith didn’t have the answers; yet Buffy continued to ask for them.

She might have continued, except the van slowed and then made a sharp turn. “We’re back at the ranch,” Wesley announced.

Faith got up on her knees and peered out of the windshield. “Alright, kiddies. Make sure you get all your gear and clean up the trash. I ain’t spending the rest of the day doin’ it for you.” She grinned at the chuckles her comment received. She continued more soberly, eyes sweeping over the people crowded together next to her. “Stay sharp. We kicked the First’s ass at the school. That don’t mean more of them ‘Bringers ain’t waiting for us here.” Her gaze stopped on Jennifer and Kirstan. “Not you, Old Timer. You got yourself a spot in the back until I can trust you in a fight.”

A soft snort greeted her comment. “Just wait, little girl. We’ll see who wins when I take you out to the Training Shed again.”

The van slid to a stop. “I’ll look forward to it, Old Timer.” Faith opened the door and hopped out. On full alert, she scanned the area. “Nothin’ on the radar. You gettin’ anything, B?”

***

Gripping the Scythe, Buffy climbed out and stood a few steps behind Faith. There was something here. It was faint, though. “Maybe,” she answered softly. Warmth filtered through her palms, and Buffy strained to get more information from the warning.

When the answer came, she nearly dropped the Scythe.

“Buffy?” Gunn hesitated with one foot on the gravel drive and the other inside the van. “We got trouble?” He yanked a stake from the back of his waistband and looked around quickly.

“Yes.” Buffy was too focused to say much. She had to get inside; _Willow_ was inside – and so was whatever had set the Scythe off. “Faith! Get the gang; it looks like the First beat us back.” She didn’t wait to see if Faith would follow orders. Instead, Buffy sprinted for the wide porch and the doors to the library.

Her footsteps sounded eerily loud on the loose gravel coating the fused section Willow had created only a few days ago, and Buffy’s breathing seemed to explode from her lungs. How had the First gotten inside without Willow noticing? She hit the short flight of stairs at full speed, leaping the wide steps in a single bound and lunging toward the French doors.

They opened with a crash as her weight (and the force of her shove) snapped the dead bolt and tore the door on the right completely from the frame. Glass shattered and crunched under Buffy’s feet as she slid to a halt and raised the Scythe.

“You still on that power trip?” Kennedy strolled forward with her hands casually shoved in her pockets. “In case you haven’t noticed, we _were_ cleaning up the mess left by the Bringers. I think this time _you_ get to sweep up the glass.”

Buffy ignored most of the mocking comment. “I know about the Bringers. Willow told me; they weren’t the real problem. The First is here.” That brought her attention back to Kennedy. Kennedy – who wasn’t carrying a weapon. Without taking her eyes off the other girl, Buffy grabbed a piece of broken door frame and tossed it to Kennedy. “Here. You might need this.”

The makeshift stake landed in Kennedy’s quickly outstretched hand. “I do have a sword,” she said disdainfully.

She wasn’t the threat. Buffy relaxed only marginally when Kennedy gripped the shard of wood. “You can’t ever have too many weapons. Didn’t your Watcher teach you anything?” she asked vaguely. Her attention was back to scanning for the First. Dimly, Buffy also heard the rest of the troops running into the house behind her. “Spread out,” Buffy told them tersely. “Anybody not touching or holding something is suspect.” She was happy to note that Faith was right at her elbow as she moved past Kennedy and began to hunt for the First _and_ Willow.


	57. Chapter 57

More and more people joined in the hunt. Buffy saw sword-wielding Potentials and Watchers alike ducking in and out of rooms. As nice as their support was, it wasn’t an effective use of their forces. The Scythe in her hands appeared to be the only way to sense the First. “Faith!” she called out tersely.

“More trouble, B?” Faith moved even with Buffy, both hands holding weapons.

“Maybe.” Grinning slightly at Faith’s snort, Buffy pointed at a cluster of Potentials. “We need them out of the way and quarantined. I’m not…” She flexed her fingers around the Scythe, still trying to do a directional search of the early warning signal thrumming through the handle. “I can’t tell where the First is.”

Faith seemed to be on the same wave length. Before Buffy could continue, Faith spun on her heel. “You! Junior!”

Drew, Kennedy, and another Potential Buffy barely recognized stood shoulder to shoulder a few feet away. Only Kennedy looked up at Faith’s brusque summons. “You bellowed?”

Ignoring the mocking comment, Faith went on. “Gather the crew in the living room. Make sure _everyone_ , even the bookworms, is got a weapon. Post guards on the door, in and out. Nothing gets through the door unless you know ‘em and you can touch ‘em.” Not bothering to wait for Kennedy’s response, Faith started walking again.

Buffy glanced at her out of the corner of her eye. “You think she’s going to take orders from you?”

There was a hint of a smile on Faith’s lips. “She don’t and I’m gonna make her wish you’d beaten the crap out of her earlier.”

“Oooh, Scary Faith.” As they bantered, Buffy pushed her senses to the limit. She could faintly feel Faith doing the same. The Scythe was making the process difficult, though; the tingling in her palms had spread to Buffy’s entire body. The silent almost-hum distracted her and derailed her regular Slayer senses. She fought to reach through the buzz. “That’s a big change in the rule book,” Buffy murmured in response to Faith’s comment. “I was more iron fist in the velvet glove with my troops.”  Her efforts weren’t enough. The Scythe was winning the battle, and she still hadn’t found the First. _Will?_ Buffy mentally called out.

“Takes too much time to play nice, B,” Faith was quick to respond as she jumped through the doorway into the den.

Buffy followed a second later as they imitated television cops entering a suspect’s home. The room was empty, though. Sagging slightly from the rapid drop in adrenaline, Buffy felt a tired brush on her mind.

 _Buffy?_ Willow sounded drained until the rest of the thought traveled through their link. _You’re back_! Even in Buffy’s mind, Willow’s elation carried a bounce and full-faced smile.

Reluctant to rain on Willow’s Happy Parade, Buffy nonetheless sent an echo of the Scythe’s warning into the bond. _The First is here, Will. The Scythe can sense it._ She kept the information short and to the point. _Stay put. Faith and I are hunting for it. We’ll come to you_. Now that Willow was on her internal radar, Buffy knew her wife was in the basement. Waving a hand at Faith, Buffy mouthed the word, “Willow,” and pointed to her head.

Faith nodded in understanding and took the point position as they slipped back into the hallway.

It was hard to skulk behind Faith and talk at the same time. Buffy’s concentration wavered, and the link faded in and out in response. That didn’t mean she missed the disbelief and bruised ego when Willow protested the news about the First. _There’s nothing in the house, Buffy. Dawn and I did the warding, and I…_

Willow disappeared from Buffy’s head as she and Faith reenacted their surprise entrance into the kitchen.  

“We got blood, B.” Faith dashed across the empty room. Kneeling on the floor, she touched a dark and congealed pool on the floor. “Ain’t new, though.” She held up her red-stained fingers.

“Great.” It was anything except good, however. “Now what? Is the First here disguised as whoever left that?” Buffy asked, pointing to the bloodstain. “Or is that from the fight with the ‘Bringers?” Scowling at the Scythe in her hands, Buffy resisted the urge to heave the weapon through the nearest window. “What the hell good is this thing if I can’t understand what it’s telling me?”

***

“’Least we know there’s trouble.” Faith stood and strode for the door. “It’s better than we usually get, B. Stop whining and start walking.” She didn’t pay attention to Buffy’s open-mouthed look of shock at her words. Faith didn’t have the Scythe. She didn’t even have Buffy’s level of awareness. Straining with everything she had, Faith felt…nothing. Not even a flicker touched her internal radar. It made her want to howl in frustration – and not only because the First might be loose in the house. Dawn was with Willow. Faith’s sensory blindness included the inability to touch or talk to Dawn the way Buffy and Willow did.

Fear for her girlfriend soured in Faith’s mouth and sent cold, clammy sweat streaking down her body.  Using the added energy from the fight or flight response jangling her nerves, Faith exploded out of the kitchen and took the stairs to the second floor in two huge leaps.

“Faith! Watch where you’re going!” Cordelia snapped as Faith nearly caromed into the group of people crowding in the hallway.

Coming to an abrupt halt, Faith grunted softly when Buffy slammed into her back. “What’s with the party, Prom Queen?” She scanned the ragtag bunch and bit back a curse. Anya lay on a sheet stretched between Xander, Giles, and another pair of Watchers. She reached back and grabbed Buffy’s arm, moving them to the side.

There was no thank you from the crew. They simply made their way slowly to the stairs. Pants and grumbles marked their passage, and Faith thought she heard a, “Geez, are you going to throw me down the stairs?” from Anya herself.

“We decided it would be fun to hold off the bad guys with a handful of little girls.” Cordelia’s response lacked its usual bite. “We’ve got another group coming, if you and Buffy can stay out of the way.”

Buffy’s head popped around the side of Faith’s body. “I didn’t know anyone except Anya got hurt.”

Grinding her teeth, Faith held back a whine about missing out on the information. Why hadn’t Buffy filled her in? “One of the juniors, Cordy?”  she asked tersely. They had so few Potentials now. She didn’t want to think how bad their chances were if they continued to lose more to injury…or worse. Movement at the end of the hallway distracted her. Another crowd of people. Another sheet serving as a stretcher. “Who the fuck is that?” Faith stared at the woman being carried toward them. “B?” It had to be the First. It was the only new face.

All of Buffy now appeared at Faith’s side. “I don’t know.” She held out the Scythe like a divining rod and frowned. “I don’t know!” she repeated in a frustrated growl. “It’s the same feeling as before.”

“Don’t know about you, B, but I’m tired of waiting for your new toy to do its thing.” Reaching out, Faith extended the hilt of the dagger in her right hand toward the woman.

“What are you doing? She needs to be…” One of the Watchers holding the sheet started to protest.

Faith gave him her best General Faith look, and he shut up with an indignant huff. “She ain’t dead, and I don’t see lots of blood.” Turning her look on the woman, Faith ordered, “Take it. I wanna see you hold that.”

Everyone in the hallway stared. Some at Faith, some at each other. Most at the tanned hand and the weapon resting less than an inch away from it.

***

When Buffy’s mental voice disappeared, Willow tried to pull it back. Unfortunately, even though she continued to feel Buffy’s faint emotional turmoil and tension, Willow couldn’t reestablish the link. “Damn it!” She wanted to stomp her feet and scream. Why did Buffy think the First was in the house? And…if it was, how had it gotten there? She had never set a warding as big and complex as the one she and Dawn had just raised; Willow was completely sure, however, that the Magickal ritual had been a success. The small, yet continuous, drain on her reserves signaled the ward was active. “Dawn.” Willow wasn’t about to let the matter sit. “We need to take another look at the spell. It didn’t work.”

“I thought…” Dawn cut off her statement abruptly. She looked at Willow and seemed to make a decision. “Tell me what to do,” she said, echoing her earlier request.

This time, Willow couldn’t afford to let Dawn stay on the outside of the real magic. She needed all the help she could get. “Drop your shields. I’m going to merge our power.” They were still standing near the altar, well inside the permanent Circle. Unfortunately, the protective barrier Willow had raised was gone now. It was part of the larger barrier surrounding the house. Grimacing at the need to recast the Circle, Willow closed her eyes and sought her center.

It was a difficult journey. Willow was more than simply physically tired. Her channels pulsed and felt raw from the heavy load of energy they’d carried. Promising herself a long, uninterrupted rest sometime soon, Willow ignored the signs of her own fatigue and traced the familiar pathway to the core of her being. Some of the exhaustion faded when she reached her destination. Good. Willow took a second to make sure her power levels were stable and then tossed an invisible hook and line at Dawn.

Dawn’s magical education had been sporadic and never planned. Her inexperience showed immediately. The hook smacked into Dawn’s partially lowered barriers and almost-visible sparks flared.

Willow reeled in automatically. “Easy, Dawnie,” she murmured. “It’s just me. Relax and use the mantra Tara taught you.” The last was a stab in the dark. Tara had tried to teach Willow the calming routine when they’d been studying together. Holding her breath, she watched Dawn with her inner sight.

She’d been right about the mantra. Willow spotted a rhythmic movement in the bright power in Dawn’s channels seconds later. The cycle completed once…twice…and the barriers dropped away.

This time, the hook landed smoothly. _Thank you_ , Willow told her new assistant through their connection. _All you need to do now is watch…and keep this link open._ There was a flutter of agreement from Dawn, and Willow smiled as she went to work. Flush with fresh energy, she left her physical form behind and rose up through the ceiling and out into the night sky. With painstaking care, Willow examined the warding she’d cast. Smooth, seamless magic coated the exterior of the ranch house. The spell had been a success.

 _If we did it right,_ Dawn’s mental voice was soft and thin, _then the First was here before we put the barrier up_.

The simple statement echoed between them. _How_? The question wasn’t really directed at Dawn. Willow was thinking aloud. _One of the Potentials or Watchers?_ She gripped Dawn more tightly through their connection. _I want to take a closer look at that idea_. Smiling grimly, Willow murmured, _What if we’re missing something, Dawnie? The books on the First…they were really vague. Are we sure we know all its powers?_

A hint of fear slid through the bond with Dawn. _Willow? What…What are you thinking?_

Willow wasn’t entirely sure herself. All she knew was that something wasn’t adding up. _Don’t panic yet, Dawn. Stay with me. I need you; I can’t do this alone._

The reminder that Dawn was an integral part of the magic helped. Willow felt the bond strengthen and Dawn’s fear faded behind a wave of determination. _I’m not going anywhere, Willow._

More focused now, Willow moved her astral form back inside the house. Before they could put together a solution to their problem, they had to locate the First. The warding was solid. It sealed evil out…and the First inside, it seemed. Searching for any sign of unexplained power, Willow scanned the interior of the house. Flares of light dotted the building and indicated the location of every person. Most of them were in the living room.

Willow intended to start her in-depth study there. She’d had the First hiding inside her head. That ought to give her an edge in locating its hiding place.

Her bond with Buffy had other plans, however. Before she could scan even one person, Willow found herself hovering in the second floor hallway near her wife. Her internal vision flickered unexpectedly, and Willow’s hold on Dawn and her body slipped. Panicking, Willow yanked on the grapple line between her and Dawn. It held, but she felt the hook slide. She needed a better anchor. Bypassing the continued interference in her link to Buffy, Willow latched onto Buffy in desperation.

The second she made contact, the hallway…the entire house fluoresced. Through the painfully bright light, Willow made out a darker shape resting in Buffy’s hands. The light came from whatever Buffy held. As it slowly dimmed, the light took shape. Like a spider web, tenuous lines of pure white stretched from Buffy to many of the people in the house.


	58. Chapter 58

Willow ignored the sudden loud buzzing in her head and concentrated on the shining web. Each strand was infused with enormous power, and Willow pulled in Dawn – and her energy –to examine the lines more closely.

 _What is that thing?_ Dawn leaned over Willow’s astral shoulder. _Did the First do that?_

It was an interesting question. Buffy had said the First was in the house. Still…Willow hesitated before answering. She hadn’t felt anything evil in the house, and the warding was solid. _I don’t know, Dawn. I…_ Breaking off, Willow tried to find a way to solve their dilemma. _Hang on tight._ Making up her mind, Willow reached out a tendril of their combined magic and gripped one of the strands.

Raw energy blasted through her.

Hands burning, Willow tried to let go, to pull away. She was buffeted by the terrifying energy on one side and Dawn’s frantic attempts to untangle the link between them. Reeling, Willow got lost in eddies of power. Unable to react in any way, Willow could only watch as the strand clung to her and then expanded.

It was as if someone had flicked a switch. In the span of a heartbeat, the buzz and the blazing power tempered. Finally able to think, Willow realized the power signature was familiar somehow. No longer completely at the mercy of the magic, Willow decided to press for more information. Communicating the plan to Dawn, Willow waited on her shaky, yet enthusiastic, approval before opening them both fully to the energy.

***

“Why do I need a big knife?” the woman demanded. “And…is that _blood_ on it? What have you been doing?”

The dagger didn’t waver. Faith merely grunted impatiently. “Shut up and take it.”

The woman followed Faith’s command with a scowl, plucking the dagger from Faith’s hand. “Happy now? Or do you want me to do something with it?” _Like stab you with it?_ The unspoken words were apparent from the laser-like glare the woman gave Faith.

Faith’s hand closed into a fist. She’d been so sure that the woman in front of her was the First. “Keep it,” she said brusquely. “You never know when you might need it.” With a twisted attempt at a reassuring smile, Faith stepped back. Her skin prickled, and her Slayer grew even more restive.

She risked a look at Buffy.

Eyes a molten copper, Buffy stared blankly down the hallway with the Scythe held in front of her.

Focusing intently on the weapon, Faith reached for it with her senses. At first, nothing happened. Without warning, though, her luck changed. A klaxon shrilled in her head. She nearly staggered back in shock. God, no wonder Buffy had bitched about the feeling. Faith lost touch with the hallway for a minute, desperately treading the wave of power flooding over her.

Slowly, she regained her footing. Faith smiled in satisfaction. She could handle the Scythe. After watching Buffy, she hadn’t been sure. It simply took a lot of concentration – and the full cooperation of her Slayer. Primal energy rippled throughout Faith’s body as the Slayer stretched out and seemingly merged with her. It was odd. Almost as if Faith were shedding a too tight skin and fitting into a new one.

“Are you going to stand here all day? Or was there a reason you galloped up the stairs?” Cordelia’s irritated comment snapped Faith out of her internal examination.

When she raised her eyes to Cordelia, Faith’s vision bore the slightest hint of a copper overlay. “Sorry, Prom Queen. We’ve had a hell of a night.” She didn’t go into details. Not yet. Turning her attention to the men holding the blanket stretcher, she ordered, “Get her downstairs and into the living room. Have Tara take a look and see if the witches can help get her on her feet.” They needed all hands on deck right now. “Demon Girl, too,” she added as they began their descent.

“Trouble?” It was so easy to forget that this wasn’t the same Cordelia she’d known at Sunnydale High School.

At Faith’s side, Buffy shook her head and blinked. “The First’s here, and we can’t find it,” she muttered. Still not appearing to be completely with them, Buffy began to sweep the hallway with an intense gaze. “That’s why we want everyone in the same place. If _this_ ,” she brandished the Scythe, “can’t pinpoint the First, we’ll do it the old fashioned way.”

Nearly rolling her eyes at the dramatics, Faith gestured with her head. “Hit the stairs, too, Queenie. Me and B’ll finish up the hunt and grab our girls on the way back.”

“There isn’t anything up here to find, Faith. I’m the last one.” With a sarcastic look at Buffy, Cordelia continued, “But if you want to waste your time, be my guest. Buffy’s never listened to any of my advice.  I mean, look at those clothes…” Her footsteps thundered on the stairs as she ran for the first floor.

Keeping a straight face by sheer willpower, Faith didn’t glance at Buffy. Instead, she attempted to refocus her attention on their missing enemy. “Any more luck finding the First, B?” She didn’t really need a response. Faith was still aware of the Scythe and could feel its warning singing in her blood. The First was here…and yet it wasn’t.

“Not so you’d notice.” Buffy sounded resigned now. All her earlier anger had faded. “Come on. We’ll check the rooms up here just in case and then head to the basement. Will and Dawn are doing something magic-y. I can feel her crawling around in my head.”

Faith suddenly realized that she could, too.

She was so busy marveling at the new feeling, Faith nearly missed Buffy moving out. She hugged the wall to Faith’s right, and Faith had to scramble to take up a protective position behind her. “B… Do we really need to stay up here? Cordy said there weren’t any more people. Just us.”  Clearing her throat, she pushed on. Although this wasn’t exactly the best time, Faith was tired of feeling inadequate. Despite her new awareness of the Scythe and Willow’s magic, there was one thing missing. “How do you do that? Talk with Red, I mean?” She was glad she was behind Buffy when she asked the question.

“I don’t know.” Buffy dashed into the first room on their right.

Following with her remaining knife outstretched, Faith withheld her response until she was sure the room was clear. “Ain’t good enough, B. I…I want to be able to do that with Dawn.” The words were soft and lacked Faith’s usual brashness. She listened to the Slayer’s suggestion and gave Buffy complete honesty for once. Dawn was her wife (Faith twitched at the thought), and she deserved to have the same type of connection that Buffy and Willow shared.

They returned to skulking in the hallway, inching closer to the next room. “Well, you could ask Will. I’m sure she’d be happy to help you and Dawn.” Buffy’s  lips twisted wryly. “And can I just mention how freaked I am – on the inside – at the fact it’s my sister we’re talking about?”

 _Your sister, or the fact she’s with me?_ Faith said to herself. “Ah…I don’t think so, B,” she finally said out loud as they took up mirrored stances on either side of the door frame. “Your girl has this thing for fireballs and threats when I’m around. Don’t want to risk burning in Hell before my time.”

This time Faith took point on the entry into the room.

“OK. I’m done with this.” The bedroom was empty. “Until you can get that thing to put a big arrow over the First, we ain’t playing cops and robbers no more.” Standing up from her crouch, Faith tucked the dagger into the waistband of her jeans. “You think Big Red would show me and Dawn about that bond thing?” she asked, returning to the previous conversation.

Not looking ready to give up the search (probably because of the clanging in her senses), Buffy stayed protectively hunched over with the Scythe at the ready. “Big Red? If you're worried about Willow fireballing you, I'm thinking you better be careful what you nickname Jennifer.” Slowly relaxing, Buffy grinned at Faith. “And I really want to be there when you call Willow Middle Red.”

That sounded about as much fun as asking Willow to help her connect with Dawn. “Ah…maybe I’ll skip that,” Faith mumbled. “Come on. This thing in my head says we still got a problem. If Red…” she cut herself off. “If _Willow_ ,” Faith tried again, “can’t get that damned axe to speak Slayer, we’re dead.”

“And seeing Dawn has nothing to do with the sudden need to go to the basement?” Buffy turned and trotted for the hallway.

It was a trick question. Faith caught up with Buffy in a few bounds and bumped her shoulder. “Nah. I was thinking about you the whole time, B. You and Red,” she didn’t try to censor the nickname this time, “have been joined at the hip since I got to Sunnydale the first time. Bet you’re all Willow-sick by now.”

***

Buffy shoved back. “Am not,” she retorted. “You’re making that up.” She was getting used to the scream of the Scythe – enough that throwing it out the window or coming apart in frustration were only distant options, anyway. “You touched it.” Holding the Scythe out toward Faith, Buffy tilted her head inquiringly. “How’s your Scythe-ese?”

“Crappy.” Faith grinned and her dimples popped out. “All I got is a big, irritating buzz. It did something, though. The Slayer’s out and ready to rumble.”

The news shouldn’t have been a surprise. Buffy’s foot nearly missed the stairs, however. “How do you _do_ that? When the big Buffy/Slayer merger happened, I freaked. You? All you do is shrug and go on. It’s not fair.” Why was Faith so comfortable with the primal side of herself?

“Fair?” Faith snorted. “Give me a break, B. Even you ain’t that stupid.” She shot ahead of Buffy when they reached the ground floor. “You wanna know how I learned to deal with the Slayer?”

Buffy hung her head. Faith’s voice was rising, and some of the old anger marked her words. “Um…not now,” she said, trying to verbally backpedal.

She’d gone too far, though. Faith didn’t listen and forged ahead. “I let her control me, B. You were there. You saw it.” Wrenching open the door to the basement, Faith paused on the threshold. “Thanks to Angel and two years in a tiny cell, I learned how to keep that from happening again. Still scares the piss out of me, but me and the Slayer understand each other now.”

 ***

As the magic continued to expand and wrap around and through Willow and Dawn, Willow began to see more. The source of the energy glowed brightly in Buffy’s hands. It had to be the Scythe. Willow started there, at the beginning. One thick cord of power stretched from the weapon and then branched out into a myriad of smaller strands. Most of those strands bypassed Faith; however, Willow glimpsed another, thicker connection to her. She peered closer. Was there one to Buffy as well?

Yes; although it was difficult to see at that range, Willow traced another thick tie from the weapon to her wife. Things began to come together. Testing her theory, Willow drew herself and Dawn downstairs into the living room. There, in a room crowded with the life signatures of most of the people in the house, a dizzying array of magical power lines branched out.

That’s when Willow fully understood. _It’s not the First._ She wanted to whoop for joy.

Dawn had followed her logic. Her elation was like a giggle through their link. _Buffy’s going to be mad when she finds out. She hates to be wrong._

Not this time. Willow was absolutely sure of that. She took another look at the shining strands of magic linking all of the Potentials to the Scythe and smiled.   _Let’s go. We’ve seen enough._

The trip back to the basement and their bodies required only a thought. With a tired groan, Willow slumped to the cold stone floor. “Goddess, that never gets easier.”

“At least you’ve done it before.” When Willow managed to raise her head, she realized Dawn was in far worse shape than she was. Pale, with her lips pressed in a grim line, Dawn appeared close to complete collapse. “Me? I skipped more than a few lessons along the way. You know…from pencil floating to out of body experiences in one big leap.”

Dawn’s words slurred at the end and her pallor deepened. Willow didn’t waste time answering. She scrambled to her feet and dove across the intervening space just as Dawn’s knees buckled and her eyes rolled back in her head.


	59. Chapter 59

Willow got to Dawn before she hit the ground. Unfortunately, her awkward position and Dawn’s greater size meant Willow couldn’t _keep_ Dawn off the ground. Willow landed hard on the stone floor and grunted as Dawn used her stomach for her own touchdown.

“Will?” Buffy’s voice carried in from the other room. Seconds later, she and Faith skidded to a halt right outside of the magical barrier surrounding the altar. “Will!” Eyes wide, Buffy stared at her.

Too tired to move Dawn, Willow smiled from her spot on the floor. “Hey, Buffy.”  She needed help – and that meant taking down the Circle. “Um…give me a minute, will you?”

“What the fuck, Red?” Faith stepped closer, and her proximity registered along Willow’s channels as the Circle dragged in more power and thickened. “What did you do to Dawn?” Her eyes were glued to the unconscious Dawn.

The barrier needed to come down. Having no trouble recognizing the worry in Faith’s voice and expression, Willow mentally scrambled for the energy to ground the magic.

“Red!” Faith wasn’t waiting for an answer.

Sparks flared when she pounded against the Circle. Willow gritted her teeth against the new power drain and closed her eyes. _Buffy_ , she called silently to her wife. _Get Faith away from the Circle. I don’t have a lot of energy left, and I need a chance to dismantle the barrier so you can get inside._

A trickle of understanding answered her.

Not bothering to open her eyes and see if Buffy was successful in controlling Faith, Willow reached out for the Circle.

***

Faith growled when Willow didn’t respond. Ready to tear through the shimmering curtain in front of her, she reached out with both hands.

“Don’t, Faith.” Buffy gripped Faith’s shirt and dragged her back a few steps.

Struggling against the hold, Faith growled again – this time, though, it wasn’t a sound of frustration. Seeing Dawn lying so still in Willow’s arms…The Slayer was coming to the fore.

“Oh, knock it off!” Glaring at Faith, Buffy let go and pointed at Willow and Dawn. “You can’t get in there until Willow does something with the magic. She’s trying, and all your snarling and pounding isn’t going to help.”

“But…” Faith wasn’t ready to listen. Dawn hadn’t moved since they’d entered the basement, and Buffy’s explanation didn’t include any commentary on her condition. Faith didn’t care about magical barriers – or Willow. Her only concern was Dawn. Making sure that Dawn wasn’t hurt.

Buffy gently thumped Faith’s shoulder. “I get it. I do, Faith. Willow said to wait, though. So we wait.” As if trying to allay Faith’s fears, she continued. “Will didn’t sound worried. Only tired. Dawn doesn’t deal with the magical side of things often. You know that. I’m betting that’s why she’s out like a light in there.”

It made sense. Taking a less aggressive stance, Faith watched the barrier intently. “Sorry, B,” she mumbled. Her eyes flickered to Buffy. “I ain’t used to this shit. You know, caring for D.” Faith felt her lips twist. “Makes everything harder.”

“You’re wrong,” Buffy answered softly.

“What?” Faith gave up her vigil as she turned to face Buffy. “How the fuck can you say that? One minute, I’m good to go, explaining the whole Slayer gig to you. The next? I’m ready to rip your girl’s head off or die trying.” Her voice faltered. “And all because D’s _may be_ hurt. How the hell can that be anything but hard?”

She didn’t understand the look in Buffy’s eyes – or her soft smile. “Faith, I know you love what we do. The Slaying. You told me that a long time ago. Sometimes, though, it’s not only about fighting and killing evil.”

The barrier flickered, and Faith and Buffy stopped talking to watch it for a minute.

“Sometimes,” Buffy went on when the magical wall didn’t disappear entirely, “it’s about protecting your family and the people you love. It’s better that way. It gives you a purpose, a reason to keep going when the evil just keeps coming and you feel like you’re fighting a losing battle.”

Faith let that sink in. Staring at Dawn through a rapidly thinning barrier, she turned Buffy’s words over and over in her mind. Protect the ones you love. Could she do that? Could she keep Dawn safe? The Slayer roared a resounding _Yes!_ in her mind. “Can you show me how to do that, B?” It no longer felt weak to ask that question. Faith let the Slayer’s resolve fill her and accepted the truth. Buffy was the best they had, and Faith needed to learn from her.

“There isn’t a handbook for love, Faith.” Buffy wrapped an arm around Faith’s shoulder. “If there was, Will and I wouldn’t have wasted so many years as best friends. You’ll have to learn the way we are: on your own. If you want my help with fighting or pretending to be in charge, though, you bet. I’m sure Giles and Kirstan will be happy to chip in, too.”

Warmed by the words and Buffy’s clear acceptance, Faith nodded. “Thanks, B.” She hesitantly raised her left arm and returned the one-armed hug.

The moment was lost when the Circle dropped away.

Forgetting all about Buffy and Willow, Faith dashed across the intervening space and pulled Dawn into her arms. She cradled Dawn against her chest and headed for the stairs. Whatever assurances Buffy had given her, Faith wanted confirmation that Dawn was merely tired. Jennifer or Tara would work for that.

***

Buffy watched them go.  “I’m scared, Will,” she told the woman in her arms.

“Why?” Willow poked her chest and grinned. “I’ve got news of the good and happy. There should be no fear.”

Returning the smile, Buffy laughed. “I like good news; I was referring to Faith and my sister, though. Did you see that? We could have been naked and making out in here and Faith wouldn’t have stopped to watch. _That_ scares me.”

“I am so not making love to you in my mother’s altar room, Buffy.  Not even to test your theory.” Willow wiggled out of Buffy’s embrace and stood. “We’ll lock ourselves in the Den of Love for that. I like privacy, Buff. Remember that.”

Buffy stood. “Got it. No public sex.” She grabbed Willow’s hand to keep her in place. “Are you sure you’re OK?” she asked more seriously.

“Tired.” Willow met Buffy’s eyes. “Very, very tired.” The feeling trickled through their link to support the statement. “That’s all, sweetie. The mini-freak from earlier is over, I promise.” She tugged at Buffy’s hand. “Come on. We really need to talk to the troops. Dawn and I made a huge discovery.”

Using their joined hands, Buffy pulled her closer.  “If I didn’t have to lug _this_ around,” Buffy brandished the Scythe in her left hand, “I’d carry you upstairs in style. Guess you’ll have to settle for something less fantastic - like walking.” She leaned up and kissed Willow softly. “Love you, Wills. I’m glad you’ve got my back.” The talk with Faith about love and Slaying fresh in her mind, Buffy felt some of her disenchantment with her life ease.

“I love you, too, Buffy.” Willow upped the ante and nibbled on Buffy’s neck.

The need for privacy and spreading Willow’s good news took a back seat. Buffy moaned and let her head fall back, inviting more nibbling.

The moan turned to a grunt of surprise when Willow’s lips were replaced with sharp teeth.  “Get moving, Slayer. We don’t have time to take care of your HHs right now.” Green eyes twinkled merrily as Willow smirked. “You’ll have to ask Mama if she has some low-fat yoghurt.”

“Bitch,” Buffy said with a mock pout. “I’m going to remember this when we get back to the guest house.” Still cradling Willow’s hand gently, she made her way upstairs to the sound of Willow’s giggles. It felt good to smile, and Buffy didn’t let that expression fade even when they entered the living room.

The large space was crowded. It hadn’t been designed as a War Room, and every inch of seating and much of the floor was covered in bodies.

“I thought we were facing an attack,” Kirstan said. She stood guard near the doorway, gripping daggers in each hand. “Faith carried Dawn in here like she was being chased. And you?” One sharp metal tip pointed in Buffy’s direction. “You and my daughter come in here giggling. Should I be concerned?”

Willow’s head lifted from where is rested against Buffy’s shoulder. “We’re Scoobies. We laugh in the face of danger – and then Xander runs and hides until it goes away.” The original Scoobies were the only people who chuckled. Willow sobered as she continued. “The First isn’t here, Mom. At least, not yet. The feeling Buffy got from the Scythe wasn’t a warning.”

The resulting clamor helped Buffy hide her own shock at the news. How the hell did Willow know it wasn’t the First? What else could be causing the constant clanging in her head?

“What?” Kennedy’s voice was the loudest. “You’re joking! We’ve been jammed in here expecting an attack, and now you tell us Buffy was wrong?”

Giles frowned at Kennedy in displeasure before echoing her internal question. “If it wasn’t the First, my dear, what was Buffy feeling? Is there some other danger we should be aware of? Or…” Tilting his head, he asked softly, “Have you perhaps discovered how to use the Scythe?”

The rest of the questions flowed together, and Buffy couldn’t pinpoint one from the other. Striding across the room, she waited until a couple of Potentials abandoned their seats on the couch near Faith and Dawn before sitting down.

 Willow’s fingers slipped from her and she didn’t join Buffy on the couch. Buffy didn’t protest. This was Willow’s show. “Dawn and I set a ward around the house,” Willow started. She waved a hand in the air. “You can’t see it, I know. Just take my word for the fact it’s there.”

Rousing slightly from her slumped position in Faith’s lap, Dawn agreed. “Willow’s big on double checking, too. Trust her. There’s a big magic bubble around the house.”

***

Before Dawn could get any more animated, Faith wrapped her arms tightly around her, keeping her settled on her lap. “So we’re safe,” she summed up the situation. “What about that fucking gong in my head? If it ain’t the First, what is it?” And how did they make it go away?

Willow took the interruption in stride. “It’s you,” she answered. “Well, you and Buffy and all the Potentials.” Holding out a hand, Willow waited until Buffy reluctantly handed her the Scythe. “ _This_ ,” she continued with the weapon balanced in both hands, “is connected to all of you with some pretty awesome power. Like a spider web. Without the creepy spider.” Her familiar, quirky smile crept out.

The image was interesting; although, Faith wasn’t sure how this was good news. “Does this mean any of us can use the thing? Me or Buffy? Even one of the Juniors?”

“I think it’s more than that.” Willow brandished the Scythe in front of Faith. “You said you heard the warning, too. How?”

Faith shrugged. “B was bitching about the First and the noise in her head. I wanted to see if it was really that bad or if she was whining, like always.” She smirked as Buffy glowered at her. “I let my Slayer senses do a little walking, and boom. Instant buzz.”

Her explanation got an excited bounce out of Willow – and the Scythe waved dangerously close to Faith and Dawn.

“Hey, before you poke my eye out with that thing, give it back to B.” Faith cradled Dawn protectively and watched to make sure the Scythe didn’t get any closer.

The blade moved away as Willow set the head on the floor. “I think that buzz is important, Faith. I think… I think the Scythe helps wake up the Slayer.” Biting her lip, she looked at Buffy.  “Remember how it got you to let the Slayer out, Buffy? You’ve never done that before.”

Buffy still didn’t look happy about that, and Faith rolled her eyes. “Yeah, me and B were talking about that earlier,” she said before Buffy could start whining again. “So what? Other than maybe making us stronger, it don’t seem like much against the First and all its boys.”

“Think about it.” Willow pointed to each of the Potentials one by one. “What if the Scythe didn’t just work on active Slayers? What if it could wake up our own army of Potential Slayers?”


	60. Chapter 60

For an instant, Faith let the surge of excited voices in the room pull her along. A Slayer Army. Not even the First could stand up to that.

Then reality set in.

Straightening as much as she could with Dawn in her arms, Faith braced herself to be the messenger of doom. “Uh, Red?” she asked. Her question didn’t put a dent in the noise. With a sigh, Faith closed her eyes. Clearing her throat, she tried a second time to gain Willow’s attention. “ _Red!_ ”

A startled silence fell over the room.

It was hard to reopen her eyes, but Faith pried them open and looked at Willow. “Maybe I’m not gettin’ all the details. You think we can let the Juniors use the Scythe to what? Make them Slayers now? Kinda like me and B – except I don’t have to die to activate any of them?”

“Exactly!” Willow grinned. “I wasn’t sure at first. Then you said all you had to do was reach out to the Scythe with your senses. We may not have many Potentials here, but if they were _Slayers_ … Well, the First wouldn’t stand a chance against all of you.”

A chill of fear brushed Faith’s soul. Willow couldn’t be serious. “You’re out of your fucking mind.” The words slipped out before Faith found a better way of phrasing her objection.

Willow flushed angrily and her hand curled around the Scythe. “You have a better plan?” she demanded. “Oh, wait! I bet I know.” Moving closer, Willow glared down at Faith. “I bet you want to go in with stakes and swords waving. That’s all you were ever good for. Charge in with no plan or thought for consequences.”

“Will!” Buffy and Dawn spoke at the same time.

The dual protest froze Willow for a second, and then she backed up a step. “I’m sorry, Buffy.” She glanced over at her wife as Faith hugged Dawn tighter. “That came out a lot harsher than I wanted.” Her next statement ruined the apology, however. “It doesn’t mean I was wrong. This is a good plan. The Scythe is amazing, guys. I’ve never seen so much power. If we can harness that and create enough Slayers to balance the playing field, why not?”

Here was her chance. Faith stood up slowly, setting Dawn gently on her feet. “Yeah, it sounds good, Red. Until you look at it another way.” Rubbing her hands up and down the legs of her pants, Faith searched for the right words. “You want to do whatever it takes to win. It’s what the Scoobs have been about since I got to SunnyD. This time, you ain’t doing what you accused me of a minute ago.”

She could feel every eye in the room on her; yet Faith kept her eyes on Willow. Willow was the key. If Faith could get her to understand, the rest of the gang would fall in line.

“And what’s that supposed to mean?” Willow wasn’t anywhere near understanding. Arms crossed over her chest, she pressed her lips together as if daring Faith to go on.

It wasn’t a challenge Faith wanted to accept. Feeling the weight of the responsibility Buffy had given her dragging at her shoulders, Faith ignored her desire to turn and walk away. “I mean you ain’t thought this all the way through. You want to turn these kids into killing machines. The First won’t stand a chance. Whoo fucking hoo.” Each word took tremendous effort to utter, and Faith felt sweat soak her shirt and hair. “What happens after the big battle?”

Willow stared at her in confusion. “I…I don’t…”

“You don’t know,” Faith finished for her. “Well, I got a pretty good idea, Red, and it ain’t something you want to see.” Nearly leaning forward, Faith willed Willow to make the connection.

The green eyes narrowed, and Willow’s brow wrinkled.

She was getting close, Faith realized. What else could she say without getting too graphic?

The decision was taken out of her hands. “I’ve got an idea, too,” Kennedy interrupted. “You don’t want Willow to use the Scythe because you don’t want us to be Slayers. I mean, Buffy’s getting out of the business. That leaves you in charge since you’re the _Lead_ Slayer, right, Faith? Why would you want competition from someone younger and better?”

The inference was clear. “Someone like you, Junior?” Faith prayed Kennedy wasn’t dumb enough to push any farther.

“Yeah. Just like me.” Moving through a few of the bodies sitting on the floor, Kennedy stood with her hands planted on her hips and smirked at Faith. “I heard that Kirstan wiped the mat with you yesterday. For the girl who plans on leading us, you don’t seem to have what it takes. Why don’t you step aside – like Buffy – and let me handle things? My Watcher was grooming me to be the next Slayer anyway.”

Faith bowed to the inevitable. Willow hadn’t caught her veiled hints, and now Kennedy was trying to cause trouble. Reaching her Slayer no longer took effort. Faith let the full energy of her primal side uncoil and took a single, sinuous stride toward Kennedy. “Let me give you some info, Junior.” Voice dropping lower, Faith closed the final gap between them in a rush. One hand reached out to caress Kennedy’s cheek. “I ain’t B.” The hand shifted in a blur, closing tightly around Kennedy’s throat and pulling her up until her toes scrabbled for purchase on the carpet. “In fact, your Watcher shoulda been warning you what happens when Slayers lose control.”

Out of the corner of her eye, Faith saw Willow’s head come up and her eyes widen. “Faith…”

Raising her free hand to stop whatever comment Willow was about to make, Faith remained focused on Kennedy. “You know who I am, Junior?” Nearly hissing the words, Faith slowly tightened her fingers around Kennedy’s neck. She could hear the harsh, gasping breaths as the other girl fought to breathe. “I’m your worst nightmare. I’m Faith – the Dark Slayer. A murderer twice over.” Memories threatened to steal the hold Faith had over the rage normally buried deep inside. Her muscles twitched and the room darkened. “I played for the other team, Junior. Worked for a demon and came real close to taking the Scoobs out of the game.”

***

Buffy watched Faith closely. Her Slayer watched, too. Faith was in control – for the moment. Not wanting to startle Faith, Buffy stood very slowly and inched around Dawn.

She had hoped to get closer to Faith. There was bound to be some fallout once the show was over. However, Dawn’s hand gripped Buffy’s arm before she made even half the journey. “Buffy, you have to stop her!” Dawn whispered.

Shaking her head, Buffy disagreed. Faith was making one hell of a point – with the entire group. She met Dawn’s tear-filled eyes. “Wait, Dawnie. Faith knows what she’s doing. Trust her.” For the first time, Buffy realized that _she_ trusted Faith. Without reservation. When Dawn’s fingers relaxed their hold, Buffy smiled in approval and continued her careful trip toward Faith.

Faith was winding down. Kennedy’s feet were nearly flat on the floor now. “If you think you can take me, you give it your best shot, Junior.” With a vicious shove, Faith sent Kennedy sprawling several feet away. “No way am I letting Red juice you up, though. You’re a mini-me waiting to happen. All mouth and no self control.”

“We’ll find another way, Faith,” Buffy said, smoothly joining the conversation before Kennedy could respond. “I don’t think we realized…” Breaking off, Buffy scanned the room. There were a lot of pale faces among the newer members of the group. The older ones, though…They looked back at Buffy, eyes dark with understanding.

“Yeah, B. You never did.” Faith’s head dropped forward, and her hair obscured her features as she continued. “Give some dumb kid superpowers without enough training and you get a killer.” Her head rose, and Buffy flinched from the pain-filled look on Faith’s face. “You need Slayers, B. Slayers know who the enemy is; they don’t _become_ the enemy.”

This had to end. Buffy reached out a hand. “There are no enemies here, Faith.” The wounds from the past needed to heal, and Buffy knew the ones she and Faith had inflicted on each other ran the deepest. “We’re all in this together.”

She held her breath as Faith stared at her hand for a second. Then strong fingers twined with hers. “Together, B.” A familiar smirk followed the words. “’Course, you ain’t wearing the big hat no more. Guess together means you gotta follow orders like the rest of the Slayerettes.”

“I’m sure Buffy – and the rest of us – will do what is required,” Giles stated, shattering the moment. “Perhaps our time would be best served if we were to figure out what, precisely, that will entail.”

Rolling her eyes at Faith, Buffy let their hands slip apart and turned to Giles. “Seven years, and you still don’t get it, Giles. We’ll have a plan.” She couldn’t resist smirking as she continued. “We always do. Even if it _is_ something simple like: rush in through the front door and kill anything vampy that moves.”

“Sorry, B. Can’t do it that way anymore.” Faith returned to her seat on the couch. “Red got all bitchy when she thought that was my plan. We need something flashier. How about we let the witches blow open the front door and go in with fireballs blazing? We’ll wait with the Juniors until the coast is clear and then do the clean up?”

As laughter filtered through the room, Buffy realized most of the newest members of the team weren’t joining in. She glanced at Faith – and saw the same knowledge in her eyes. Sobering quickly, she dropped onto the couch. “You’re asking _me_ , Faith? I think someone just reminded me that I was now a simple Slayerette. I don’t make decisions. You do. So…” She dragged the word out.

“So I need to stop playing and let the brains in the room give me all the info, B.” Faith picked up the conversational ball seamlessly. “Red, put the toy down and let’s see what else we can do besides letting the Juniors play in the bigs.”

There was a wave of motion as each Potential shifted.

“We’ll keep that on the table – in case we ain’t got any other options, though.” Faith was getting good at the leadership. She wasn’t closing the door on Willow’s plan, and that kept the Potentials from following Kennedy’s lead and arguing. Buffy watched as Faith shifted on the couch so she had a better view of the room. “Old Timer? Giles?” Faith scanned the rest of the people huddled close. “Anybody? I ain’t like B. You all got a say in how we do this.”

It was very clear that Buffy was going to have to get used to the “I ain’t B” comments. Leaning back against the couch, she waited for someone to respond to Faith’s question. Willow made the wait easier when she propped the Scythe near Buffy’s knee and curled up in Buffy’s lap.

“I am not sure what other options we have,” one of the new Watchers said finally.

Buffy wrapped her arms around Willow and chimed in. “Maybe…maybe not. If the Scythe is as powerful as Willow thinks, can we use that against the First directly?”

A sigh brushed Buffy’s neck. “I don’t know, Buffy.” Sitting up slightly, Willow frowned. “It’s possible, but I don’t think the Scythe’s power can be used as a weapon. It was…I don’t know. More like a simple bond. A connection.”

“Would you and Buffy be able to use it to augment your power, Willow?” Jennifer’s frown was familiar. She tilted her head in an eerie mimicry of Willow as she talked. “I’m trying to use your analogy of the spider web. Those aren’t normally decorations. They’re traps. Can you expand the web so that the First gets tangled in the magical lines?”

***

The idea seemed plausible. Willow closed her eyes and recalled the interconnecting lines of power. “If there was a way to _add_ energy, we could expand the web.” Something tickled the back of her mind. Concentrating harder, Willow tried to tease the idea out. Adding power. That was the key. But the key to what?


	61. Chapter 61

“Add energy? Like the First did with you?” Tara spoke quietly from her spot near Drew. “How would that work, Willow? The First doesn’t have a form.”

Damn. Tara was right. Slumping against Buffy, Willow hoped someone else in the room had an idea what to do. She was tapped out. She wasn’t Buffy’s (or Faith’s, since she was in charge) Big Gun this time around.

“I am loathe to suggest it; however, we do have an extraordinary amount of magically trained individuals. Is the First vulnerable to magical attack?” Willow recognized the new Watcher but couldn’t put a name to the face. “Does it need a corporeal form for us to harm it without weapons?”

“In theory, perhaps not,” Giles answered. “It did defeat Willow, though, in an extremely weakened state.” He turned to Jennifer. “Could we bind the First somehow? Surround it with energy and replicate a form?”

Surround it with energy… The room disappeared as Willow’s mind filled with images of the DMP. The mental picture was so clear, she could smell the grease, hear the hiss of the fries as they cooked, and see the overflowing soda cup in the machine in front of her. “That’s it!” The soda cup represented the First’s form. She scrambled off Buffy’s lap and pointed enthusiastically at Giles. “That’s it. We have to build a…build a cup and fill the First with so much power that he overloads. Like he did with my reservoir.”

Voices sprang up from every direction. Willow didn’t even try to follow the threads of conversation. She focused solely on Jennifer, who was frowning in confusion. “I’m hoping you don’t mean a literal cup, Willow,” Jennifer said dryly.

Rolling her eyes, Willow shook her head. “Not a literal one, Mama. Like Giles was saying. Remember the Slayer dream and the overflowing cup? That’s what we need to do. Put the First in a form – represented by the cup – and then pour in the magic until it can’t hold any more.”

“This is the First Evil, Willow. How could we possibly have enough power to do that?” Jennifer asked. “Even if we find a way to do what Mr. Giles is suggesting, I’m not convinced we can generate the magical energy to overload it.”

***

Faith watched Willow for a minute as she stared at Jennifer and chewed her lip. She could almost smell the smoke as the wheels in Willow’s head turned in an effort to find an answer to Jennifer’s doubt.

Then her attention wandered.

Magic wasn’t her thing; that’s why there were witches around. Completely bored, she let her eyes travel around the room. The Potentials were restless, too. Poor kids. They had even less understanding of the complex magical strategy session than Faith. At least _she’d_ been a part of Scooby research sessions every once in a while.

Too bad she couldn’t give in and let them hit the Training Barn with Kirstan.

“Hey, Junior!” Before she had a chance to question the idea that suddenly sprang to mind, Faith pointed at Kennedy. “Stop pouting and get your ass in gear. Take a Watcher or two and the rest of the minis downstairs for more training.”

The conversation regarding the First ground to a halt at her interruption. “What about the First? What if it really _is_ in the house?” Xander asked quietly. “You want to let him or the Bringers cut our forces in half?”

Meeting his eyes, Faith didn’t flinch as she responded. “Red  and D say it ain’t in the house, and we need to get the kids used to handling weapons. The last time the Bringers busted in, your girl nearly died. Playin’ it safe ain’t the Scooby Way.”

He nodded tightly. “My bad.” Slumping down next to a seemingly unconscious Anya, Xander stroked his girlfriend’s hand. “Sorry.”

“Not bad, Xan. Ain’t nothing to be sorry for.” Faith smiled slightly. “You’re the soldier boy; you know more about this shit than I do. Feel free to jump in any time. This time, though, we gotta take the risk of sending the kiddies to a different room.” She looked away, noting that the Potentials hadn’t moved. They still sat (or sprawled, in some cases) on the floor. “Unless you want me to give _all_ of you a lesson in real Slayer skill, I better see movement. _Now!”_ Faith snapped, starting to stand.

In seconds, the floor cleared as the Potentials surged up and scrambled for the door. Kennedy brought up the rear, and she paused briefly to speak with two of the new Watchers.

Convinced that the new crew was on board with their assignments, Faith wiggled closer to Dawn. “Sorry about that, Red. Thought the Juniors could use some more exercise since they weren’t helping with the research.” With a smirk and a wink, she said, “I’m all ears now, though. Impress me with what you’ve come up with so far.”

Willow gave her an arch look. “You, listen to the plan? Are you sure you don’t want to join the Potentials?”

This time, Faith didn’t think Willow was serious about her accusation; although, it was a direct hit. Mock scowling, Faith grumbled, “Yeah. I do. Unfortunately, I gotta hold your hand while we figure out what to do about the First. Since I ain’t heard any plans, I guess you don’t have one yet.”

That got a snicker from Buffy. “Huh. If you’re stuck here, I can go work out.” She looked at Willow with wide eyes. “You won’t mind will you, Will? Dawn can keep you company while General Faith and the troops talk strategy.”

The levity felt good, and Faith was willing to play along – until she looked up and met Kirstan’s gaze.  The older Slayer was _not_ amused. “Afraid that won’t work, either, B.” Trying not to shift under Kirstan’s eyes, Faith cleared her throat and got quickly back to business. “Where are we on blowing the First up?”

“Nowhere,” Drew said. “Willow and Mama think we can pull in enough power if we link all of us together through the Scythe. We just need to find a way to make the First solid. Throwing magic at it isn’t any different than throwing a knife…” She made a swooshing gesture with one hand. “It will go right through.”

“There has to be a way to hold the First together somehow.” Willow sounded frustrated. “Put some type of barrier around him. That’s where we keep getting hung up.”

Xander waved a hand. “Like a stasis field?” When the assembled researchers looked at him, he blushed. “Hey, I watch Star Trek, what can I say? It sounds like something they use. If we put a magical wall around the First, would that work?”

Jennifer shook her head. “It sounds good.” Before anyone got their hopes up, though, she continued. “Unfortunately, that takes too much power. We’d be able to do one or the other – bind the First or overload it. Not both.”

Slumping back on the couch, Faith tried not to look like she was giving up. She wasn’t…  Maybe they were looking in the wrong place. Magic might not be the answer. “What about that guy at the school? The one that kept telling me I’d burn in Hell? I bet he knows what the First has in mind.” She ignored a shiver of unease as she continued. “With a little persuasion, he might give us something we could use.”

“What guy? And what do you mean by persuasion? Like grabbing him by the throat and holding him off the ground while he chokes?” Dawn looked up at Faith with a frown. “No way. Kennedy may have deserved it. _And_ she’s a Potential. She wasn’t in any danger. You aren’t adding number three to your list of things to regret. We’ll find another way.”

Her clear concern felt good. Unfortunately, Faith wasn’t sure they could afford it. “D…” How could she explain that she wasn’t planning to kill the guy, just rough him up a little?

“The man at the school? You mean the priest?” Drew broke in, saving Faith from a difficult explanation.

“That’s the one.” Holding Dawn tightly in a silent thanks for wanting to keep her on the good side of the fight, Faith glanced across the room at Drew. “He was more than a ‘Bringer. He had eyes, ya’ know? And he kept going on and on about what would happen when the First won. Called him the Lord and shit. That sounds like maybe he knows something about the First’s plan.” She hoped. 

Willow was the first to reply. “Uh…priest? There was a priest in the Sunnydale High School basement?” She glared indiscriminately around the room. “Why am I just now hearing about this? Hello! There was a priest in the Slayer dream Buffy and I shared.”

The heat of an imaginary fireball warmed Faith’s skin, and she pulled Dawn more directly in front of her torso. “I told B,” she mumbled from her safe spot behind her girlfriend.

Buffy’s wry expression seemed to indicate she was _not_ happy about that fact. “Yeah, sorry, Will. I kind of forgot. You know, we were a little busy trying to find the First – who I thought was in the house – when we got back. Apparently, the First has some kind of assistant. The priest Faith fought in the basement.”

“It seems we have the final two pieces of the puzzle.” Kirstan moved slowly to a chair and sat down.  She shifted uncomfortably for a second, wincing a few times until she appeared to find a comfortable position.

The reminder of Kirstan’s injury, and the reason behind it, caused Faith to do some squirming of her own. Until Dawn’s hand reached back to lightly stroke her cheek. “We have them,” Dawn agreed. “How do they fit together?”

“Perhaps we are still missing something.” Elbows resting on his knees, Giles leaned forward. “Is the reason for the priest’s appearance his vocation? Or is it something else?”

***

“What else could there be?” Willow shook her head and tried to recall the details of that part of the dream. “The priest in the dream was celebrating Mass, Giles. We tried this angle before.” She struggled to keep the edge of impatience out of her voice. This was wasting time. Why weren’t they working on how to destroy the First?

Giles didn’t bother hiding _his_ impatience. It blazed from his eyes – along with his clear disappointment in Willow’s response. “Yes, Willow, we did. However, at the time, we did not think the priest himself would be real. Our research centered on cataloguing random details you and Buffy recalled. Those details may provide a way to connect this man to the First’s plan.”

Buffy suddenly gripped Willow’s hand tightly. “What if I try to remember everything again?” she offered. _Relax, Will. You know this is how Giles always does things. We’ll have to go over this dream until it turns into a nightmare._

The words, whispered through their link, made Willow blush. She did know the way Giles operated. “Sorry, Giles,” she apologized out loud. “I guess I’m more freaked about all this than I thought.” Pulling away from Buffy for a second, Willow dropped to sit on the floor next to her wife’s leg. “Let’s go through the dream again.” She closed her eyes to help with the visualization and launched into another verbal description.

She’d gotten through a rundown of the priest’s robe and the people sitting in the pew with her and Buffy when Tara interrupted. “W-Willow? You said something the first time about what the priest was saying.  That he was apologizing…”

“’Mea culpa’,” Willow quoted from memory. Then she remembered something else. “Fred, did you ever find out what the red robes meant? Is that the clue we need?”

“A little.” Fred glanced at Willow for a second before returning to her examination of her shoes. “It wasn’t much, though. Red is one of the accepted colors for liturgical robes. Usually, red symbolizes blood or fire.”

It might not be much, but Willow thought the information seemed fitting. “Red for blood. That’s good. I mean, not good good. More good that it matches this priest working for the First. That’s bound to mean bloodshed.” No one else jumped on board with her rambling explanation. “Or not.” She cleared her throat and leaned her head against Buffy’s knee. “Anything else, Fred?”

A rapidly nodding head answered her. “Yes. The color can also represent one of the feasts celebrating martyrs or saints.” She stopped and pushed her glasses up her nose. “I couldn’t find anything to really tie the robe to anything more sinister. Sorry.”

Another dead end. Hiding in the guest house until this was all over sounded better and better. “If it’s not the color, what?” Willow continued to push for an answer. Her head pounded and thinking made the pain worse.

Surprisingly, it was Faith who answered. “What if it’s more where the priest is _in_ the mass?”

Willow’s eyes popped open despite the headache and she craned her neck around to look at Faith. “You know about Catholic religious ceremonies?” she asked incredulously.

She wished she’d kept the comment to herself when Faith met her eyes and said softly, “Yeah, Red. I grew up in Boston, remember? It’s got a lot of churches – and they’re quiet, cool, and free to get in all day long. I spent my share of time hanging out in there.”

Buffy came to Willow’s rescue again. “If we aren’t looking at the robe, Faith, what could it be? I don’t know anything about masses – in Latin _or_ English.” Her smile verged on mocking. “Besides, you’re in charge now. Impress us with your brilliance. It’s part of the job.”

“Right.” The word was sarcastic, but Faith had relaxed  at Buffy’s good-natured teasing. So did Willow. “All I’m saying, B, is that the part Red mentioned starts the whole asking God to forgive your sins thing. From there, you get some chanting and shit and then communion. When the people in the church go up and get bread and drink wine.”

“That goes along with what you told us the priest yelled at you in the basement, Faith.” Drew stretched her arms over her head as she spoke. “All that stuff about going to hell and paying for your sins.”

“Huh.” Faith seemed surprised by the news. “Guess it does, Little Red.”

Willow hadn’t heard about any of this. “I’ve got an idea,” she said with a slight growl in her voice. “Why don’t you walk us through what happened in the basement, Faith, in case one of us who _hasn’t heard about it_ sees a connection with the dream.”

The smile Faith gave her didn’t do anything to alleviate Willow’s irritation. “Sure, Red. Here’s the recap. I got my assed kicked by the priest while listening to a lecture on how I was a whore and taking the fast train to Hell.”  She paused and cocked her head. “Oh, and the guy kept bragging about how I hadn’t seen anything yet. The big show was on the way and he was gonna make sure I got what was coming to me since he was the ‘right hand of the Lord’.”

“You didn’t tell us that part before, Faith,” Tara said. Unlike Willow’s similar statement, she didn’t sound angry about it. Poking Drew in the side until the other girl moved out of the way, Tara climbed to her feet. “It could have saved us a lot of time…”

Willow glanced up at Faith and Buffy and shared a look with each of them. “I guess you’ve solved our mystery,” she said to her former girlfriend. Her title of “Big Gun” was so in jeopardy right now. Regarding Tara glumly, Willow murmured, “How about sharing with the rest of us?”


	62. Chapter 62

One of Tara’s eyebrows rose, and she gave Willow a familiar smile. “I’m not the one with problems sharing, sweetie.” A blush crawled up Willow’s face at the mild rebuke as Tara continued. “We’ve all been concentrating on what the man – the priest – knew about the First, but I don’t think that’s why he’s important. I don’t think he _knows_ anything.”

That didn’t make sense. Straightening and ignoring the lingering embarrassment over Tara’s statement, Willow asked, “If he doesn’t know anything, why is he with the First?”

“It isn’t what he knows, Willow. It’s what he _is_.” Tara’s voice rose slightly and her smile widened with excitement. “We’ve been over and over the dream and the information from the books. What does the First need more than anything?”

It was like listening to Giles. Shifting impatiently, Willow wondered why everyone (Tara, in particular) felt the need to drag things out. Buffy’s hand on her shoulder pulled Willow back to the conversation.

“He needs a body,” Buffy answered Tara’s question. Her fingers gripped Willow’s shoulder tighter, and she leaned forward. “Oh my God. He _needs a body_. Will, the priest…”

The repetition of the phrase woke Willow’s mind. She followed Buffy’s line of reasoning and her eyes widened. “You think the priest is a vessel,” she stated softly. “The First can use his body to gain a form.” And as soon as that happened…the full power of the First Evil would be free. “We can’t let that happen.”

“Don’t worry, Red. It won’t.” Faith raised shadowed eyes and smiled tightly. “Now that we know about the body switch, it ain’t a big deal to keep it from happening.” The smile wavered. “Too bad I didn’t know in the basement. We coulda ended this thing then.”

It was the perfect solution. Looking into Faith’s eyes, though, Willow realized making that solution happen was anything but perfect.

Kirstan must have come to the same conclusion. “Don’t count your guilty votes yet, little girl.” Pointing a finger at Faith, she said firmly, “You aren’t the only one who can take care of the priest. The rules about killing humans only apply to Slayers. We might be short on numbers; however, there are still some ‘regular’ people available to do the job.”

“Indeed,” Giles agreed. “It has long been part of a Watcher’s training to accept that role. No matter the mystical nature of the Slayer, her foes are not solely demonic.”

Relaxing back against Buffy’s leg, Willow sighed softly. Thank the Goddess for that. In the heat of battle, taking out a ‘Bringer didn’t seem so terrible. Planning to kill the priest in cold blood was far different. It wasn’t right to place Faith in that situation, and asking Buffy to do it was never going to happen. Not as long as Willow was around.

“Does it need to come to that, Rupert?” Wesley stretched his legs out in front him as he reclined on a couch across the room. “Killing the priest might delay the First’s ascent to power; it won’t keep it from simply finding a new vessel and completing its plans at another time. We should focus our efforts on that eventuality.”

Unfortunately, Willow didn’t think Wesley understood the risks of that option. Absently stroking a hand up and down Buffy’s calf, she said, “It isn’t that easy. If we go with Xander’s idea and create a form for the First, it still can’t access its power. Let it infuse a vessel, though, and we don’t have an edge anymore.” In fact, given what the First had accomplished by simply siphoning energy from her reservoir, Willow didn’t even want to imagine how much the balance of power would shift if it had a corporeal form. “The priest is the key. I don’t think the First can simply find a new vessel if we can take it out. It’s like with the Master. The vessel is chosen because he or she can channel power that the Master – or the First – needs. You can’t just run down Main Street and pick the first person you see. You have to hunt for the right one.”

Her words fell into a sudden silence.

“It looks like we got one choice, Red.” Faith said brusquely, breaking the quiet. “Let the First get all superpowered and then you and the Other Reds can do your mojo.”

As always, Faith’s blunt assessment of the facts set Willow’s teeth on edge. She pushed the irritation back, though. No matter how much she might have liked a different summation, Faith had gotten the basics of their situation correct.

Drew didn’t sound upset when she rejoined the conversation. “It’s hard to say that’s the only decision when we aren’t sure what that mojo means, Faith. Mama?” She turned to Jennifer. “Overloading something as powerful as the First…Will eight of us be enough?”

***

Buffy shifted on the couch so she could get a better look at Jennifer. This was way over her head. All of the magic and the First using a vessel. She didn’t want to look stupid, though. And that made it harder to interject a soft, “Eight? I thought there were only six of us.”

“I was wondering that myself,” Jennifer said with a sardonic glance at Drew. “You’ve been hiding something from me, haven’t you?”

With a shrug, Drew brushed off the question. “We didn’t want to be a distraction. Besides, I’m not like Buffy or Faith. I knew about the bond. The only reason it took me and Tara this long was that I had to get right with putting aside my magical studies.”

Willow stiffened against Buffy’s leg. “Tara!”

This felt far different now that Buffy wasn’t the one facing a former lover’s change in status. _Easy, Will,_ she cautioned mentally. Working to keep any hint of her amusement from her thoughts, Buffy began a slow massage of Willow’s shoulders. It slipped in anyway. _Do I need to drag you off to the Love Den and remind you who you’re in love with_?

A bright blush crawled up Willow’s cheeks and her head shook violently. “No,” she mumbled.

Her response to Buffy’s mental commentary sparked a reaction in Drew. “No? Did I miss something, Willow?” Springing upright, she faced Willow and Buffy with her fisted hands planted on her hips. “Like maybe you being married to someone else? You have _no right_ …”

Drew broke off abruptly when Tara calmly reached out and took one of her hands. “Sit down, sweetie. Willow wasn’t talking to us.” She smiled and pointed the index finger on her free hand at Buffy. “She was talking to Buffy…”

It hit Buffy hard. It wasn’t a surprise that Tara knew about the link. Most of the people gathered in the room knew about that. Buffy’s stomach twisted at the thought that Tara might actually sense when she used the link to converse with Willow, though. Meeting Tara’s eyes, Buffy wrestled with a sudden, and completely inappropriate, surge of jealousy.

“Damn, T. Why’d you break up the fight? It woulda been way better than more research on the First.” Faith smirked and winked at Buffy. “Think about it, B. Two Reds rolling around on the floor.  Toss a little mud or oil on ‘em…”

Muscles tightening, Buffy started to get up. Still struggling with her reaction to Tara, Faith’s comment grated on her already taut nerves. Faith was out of line – just like always. Then she met Faith’s eyes and froze. Those eyes weren’t laughing. This wasn’t a joke. It was an attempt to keep things from exploding. Sobering quickly, Buffy played along. “Next time?”

Faith’s smirk twisted slightly. “Good call. You always did keep things to the point, B.” Faith turned back to Drew. “Sorry, Little Red. The smackdown’s gotta wait.” It worked; although, Drew didn’t appear to be happy as she resumed her seat. “So it looks like we let the First do its thing with the priest. Then what? How, exactly, do we blow it up?”

There was a lot of shifting and cleared throats among the witches.

“It should be really simple, Faith,” Jennifer finally answered. Should be. Buffy rolled her eyes and waited for the rest of the news. “If I understand Willow’s plan, all of us – the bonded pairs – combine our energies and pour it into the First’s new body.”

Ah. “Kind of like the soda machine pouring soda into the cup,” Buffy said. She grinned in relief. That didn’t sound so bad. “As long as we have more energy than the First has space, the magic should overload.”

“In theory,” Willow agreed. Her fingers wrapped around Buffy’s calf as she talked. “Only, because the priest is corporeal, the magic will be trapped inside him. Instead of spilling over, it _should_ cause the First explode.”

There were a lot of ‘shoulds’ and ‘coulds’. Buffy narrowed her eyes and said, “Theory and reality are never the same thing, Will. It’s like prophecies and me staying dead.”

It was supposed to be a joke, only no one laughed.

“If the magic don’t work right, can we just kill the First? Once it’s got a body, stakes or swords will do the job.” Faith pointed at the Scythe, leaning against the side of the couch. “Bet that’ll solve all our problems.”

Looking thoughtful, Giles said, “The only flaw I can see is the lack of detail regarding the magical portion of the attack. How are you going to incite the First to join with its vessel?” He peered over his glasses at Jennifer. “And how will the power transfer take place? You are undoubtedly experienced in arcane matters; however, only half of your group is comfortable with magic use.”

Buffy was glad he refrained from pointing out that the inexperienced parts of the crew were (with the exception of Dawn) all Slayers. “That isn’t true, Giles.” When everyone looked at her, she shrugged. “Faith and I are pretty much the problem. Dawn’s had _some_ training and Kirstan’s picked up a few things from Jennifer, I’m sure. How can you get us up to speed?”

A sharp finger poked into Buffy’s knee. “Hello? Wife here?” Willow gave Buffy a mock glare. “Did you think I was going to drag you to the fight with a ‘don’t worry, Buff, I’ve got it covered?’”

They’d worked without a net for so long, the thought _had_ crossed Buffy’s mind. She avoided making that admission, however. “Nope,” she lied with a bright smile – then quickly changed the subject. “Faith and I will be at your disposal for Magic Lessons, Will.”

“We aren’t going to have time for that, Buffy,” Jennifer disagreed. “I doubt the First will sit back and wait for us to find a way to destroy it. The ritual used to open the Seal required a lot of power. It’s weakened, and tonight had to be a blow to its plans. We effectively limited its forces by keeping the Hellmouth closed.”

“Great. It’s tired and pissed off and it’s probably going to end up here.” Faith didn’t look entirely unhappy at that. “Xan, your soldier memories up for a job?”

One hand gently stroking Anya’s shoulder, Xander nodded. “I can try, Faith. We don’t have any more resources than we did the first time you asked me that, though.”

***

The reminder wasn’t necessary. Faith was very aware of just how bad the situation was. Keeping her thoughts to herself, she met Xander’s eyes. “Do what you can,” she told him soberly before glancing at the rest of the room. Without the Potentials and the two Watchers who had followed them to the basement, the research crew had drastically thinned in number.

“I can help.” Gunn raised a hand to get Faith’s attention. “Got lots of experience taking out demons and vamps with small groups.”

Sometimes, being in charge wasn’t so bad. Before Faith had to more than nod at Gunn’s suggestion, Xander spoke up. “The more the merrier. How about you, Wes? You look like you’ve picked up a thing or two since LA.”

Bodies shifted and realigned themselves in the room. Faith resumed her scan once everyone had resettled. “Go with that, Xan. Take Gunn and Wes and…” She paused and pointed at one of the Watchers. “I’m bad with names.”

An eyebrow quirked in an eerie resemblance to Giles. “Edward Ayre,” the thin, balding man uttered in clipped tones.

“You’re with them, Eddie.” Faith bit back a smirk at his outraged look. After all the time at the ranch, he still hadn’t figured out the way she operated. “Once you got a plan, let us know. Remember that the Juniors are gonna have to pull their weight.”

Xander nodded in acknowledgement and then he and his troops filed out of the large room.

Into the vacuum left behind by their departure, Tara said softly, “What about the magic? Shouldn’t we at least have an idea how our plan will work before we have to use it for real?”

The very idea made Faith’s skin crawl. No matter how certain Willow and the rest of the red heads in the room were, she didn’t trust magic to take out the First. “Uh…” Couldn’t they find another way?

“We don’t want to expend too much power yet.” Jennifer’s comment nearly brought a cheer from Faith – until she continued. “That doesn’t mean we can’t work on getting the links established and learn to keep them solid. Group casting isn’t easy under the best circumstances, and I doubt the First is going to stand still and let us try to destroy it.”

It was a good point. “What do we need to do?” Even Faith could hear the reluctance in her own voice.

Frowning, Jennifer didn’t answer immediately. “The eight of us are going to have to do a little mind melding, to borrow Xander’s Star Trek reference.” Her expression didn’t lighten. “For the non-magic users…that means lowering shield and merging our personal energies. Reaching out and holding invisible hands.”

“Is it too late to say ‘no’?” Dawn wiggled in Faith’s lap. “Too much sharing is bad. Not to mention I might be scarred by some of the things in Buffy’s head.”

There were some smothered chuckles – and a lot of understanding looks.

“Sorry, Dawnie,” Willow chirped. “You’ll just have to put up with it. Besides, you’re forgetting one very cringe-worthy item.” She waved a hand around the room. “I get to share _those_ kinds of things with my parents, my ex girlfriend, my sister (who’s dating my ex-girlfriend)…” Her cheerful smile faded. “We’re all in the same boat.”

“Before this gets anymore out of hand, I suggest you get started.” The female Watcher to Giles’ left stood. “Those of us not intimately involved in the process will set up a protective perimeter and continue to research ways to defeat the First.”

Seven people made a thin line of defense. The uninjured members of the research crew grabbed books and weapons and spread out in a circle around the paired couples.

Jennifer remained in command within the protective boundary. “OK, ladies, move in closer. This is going to be hard enough without us reaching halfway across the room to make contact. Sit on the floor and make sure you’re touching the person on either side of you. Hands, knees…It doesn’t matter how. Touch will make this easier.”

Reluctantly letting Dawn off her lap, Faith stood and kept a tight hold on her girlfriend’s hand. They joined the rest of the crew on the large area rug and Faith was unhappily aware that Willow sat on her left.

She caught a similarly pained expression on Willow’s face before it smoothed out.

In seconds, all eight women sat on the floor, cross-legged with the exception of Kirstan, who mostly leaned against Jennifer. “Let’s start slowly, ladies, and work through our bonds. No big surprises at first. Just close your eyes, relax, and reach out to your mate.”


	63. Chapter 63

It was like swimming in a pool of thick black ink. Faith wallowed around blindly as she tried to find Dawn. She knew her shields were down. She’d had enough training from Diana and Giles in the early days to do that successfully. Faith could even – faintly – feel the other power signatures in the room. Pinpointing the one she wanted, though, proved more difficult.

Sweat popped out on her forehead. The cold, clammy sensation mixed with the rising frustration she felt at her failure. _Fuck!_ Faith growled at herself.

 _Not here, honey._ Dawn’s giggle tickled Faith’s mind. _Buffy’s in the room with us. You’ll just have to hold off those H’s and wait._

The frustration and anger faded in an instant. Tentatively, Faith responded, _Come on. Watching us might teach her a thing or two._ With each mental word, the conversation got easier. Faith relaxed and reached out farther with her senses. As nice as it was to finally accomplish this one skill… Well, she wanted more.

Dawn was patiently waiting for her. The darkness Faith had been swimming through faded with a soundless pop. Rainbow colors flared in its place, and Faith blinked mental eyes at the sudden brightness. _Looks like a real good trip, D. It always this freaky in your head?_

 _Who said we were in my head? This might just be yours…_ Faith could feel Dawn’s smile as she talked. _I bet you’re a big old softie behind the Dark Faith smirk._ Two invisible arms wrapped around Faith and held on tight. _And I want that Faith to be all mine._

Before Faith could figure out how to return the hug, Jennifer’s voice broke into their conversation. _Sorry to interrupt, ladies, but we need to move this along._ _Talking with your partner should be second nature. Extending beyond the link, though, is harder._

An image popped into Faith’s mind: a table, filled with a half-completed puzzle.

 _Merging all of us together is like putting a puzzle together._ Jennifer continued. _Each one of us is a separate piece. You need to keep your hold on your partner and reach out to the ‘piece’ on your left. If your partner **is** on your left, stay put and let the rest of us fit in around you._

When Jennifer finished giving directions, Faith reluctantly tried to follow them. Her muscles strained along with her mind as she sought to split her focus between the feel of Dawn still wrapped around her and locating Willow.

***

Willow gripped Buffy’s hand tightly as she waited for the next step. Her position on the floor meant there wasn’t much for her to do at the moment; Buffy sat on her left, and they’d easily opened themselves to each other. It was hard to simply sit, though. Willow could see all of the others in the room clearly with her internal sight.

Drew and Tara were solid and calm. As Willow watched, a slight flare along the edges of Jennifer’s and Drew’s auras announced that they had successfully merged their personal barriers.

Pushing more power through her bond with Buffy, Willow tried to help her wife make the same connection with Tara. _All you have to do, sweetie, is…_ Her mental encouragement broke off in a pained grunt as something slammed into her from the right.

Willow redirected her attention in another direction. Wildly flaring colors and jagged edges greeted her gaze.

Faith.  She was trying too hard to make her connection with Willow.

 _Pull back_ , Willow told her. The message obviously didn’t get through. Faith brutally slammed into her right side,  and another groan escaped Willow. _Faith!_ There was no response so Willow did the only thing she could think of. Ignoring Jennifer’s instructions, she reached around Faith and tapped on Dawn’s energy. _Dawnie, I need some help._

 _I know, and I’m trying, Will_. Dawn’s mental voice sounded strained. _I’m talking to Faith now; she doesn’t understand what I’m trying to tell her!_

Wonderful. Stifling an impatient sigh, Willow raised a shield between herself and Faith and considered her options. There weren’t any. They needed to get used to merging their energies. That meant learning to work together. Turning her head and scanning the other auras, Willow saw that everyone else had completed the circuit. She and Faith were the only signs of dissonance.

 _Mama?_ Willow asked. _Can you see what’s going on?_ There was no way she wanted to try forcing the meld on Faith.

A light brush on her face indicated that Jennifer was already working on a solution. _Lower your barrier again, Willow. I’m going to have Kirstan make the first move and bring Faith in. They’ve already got a bond through their Slayers._

Not to mention that there was no shared (and painful) history between them. Willow appreciated Jennifer leaving that part out. _Got it._ She pulled the shield down and floated, giving Kirstan a chance to get past Faith’s whirling emotions.

A subtle shift in the power nearby, though, had Willow quickly holding up a mental hand. _Wait! Not yet, Mom. I think… I think Dawn’s got this one._

***

Faith didn’t understand. She could see Willow in front of her; feel the edges of her energy. Why couldn’t she get her own ‘piece’ to fit into place? Reaching out again, Faith tried to grip Willow’s glowing aura. The soft outline of blue energy rippled at her touch - and then faded under her fingers.

Damn it! Nearly growling, Faith poured more energy into her efforts. Jennifer had said this was like putting a puzzle together. Well, when the pieces didn’t quite fit, sometimes you had to muscle it in. She started to reach for Willow one more time. She could do this.

Before Faith had a chance to prove her skills, Dawn intervened. _Hey, Will and I worked together earlier. I bet some of that link is still there. Want me to drive for a minute?_

Under normal circumstances, Faith would never have agreed. She was a Slayer, after all. She could stake a dozen vampires without breaking a sweat. _Whatever, D_. Despite needing Dawn’s help, Faith wasn’t able to accept it gracefully. Not yet, anyway. It rankled that that she couldn’t keep up with the rest of the group. Gritting her teeth, Faith relinquished control, sinking her awareness deeper into the link she _had_ managed to form with Dawn.

 _Control issues?_ Faith swore she felt one of Dawn’s fingers jab her side as she mocked Faith’s reluctant agreement. _We are so going to get rid of those. I’m not letting you turn into a taller, sexier version of my sister._

 _That won’t happen_. Willow’s voice joined their conversation as a new, unbelievably strong hand gripped Faith’s left. _Buffy’s one of a kind._

The Circle was now complete. Glancing up through the shimmering waves of power Willow emanated, Faith peered at the rest of the room. It was easy to pick out her own and Buffy’s auras – they were the only two forms not blazing brightly. Dull and orange, they pulsed almost sullenly, two unwilling participants in the mystical procedure.

What now? Faith waited impatiently for someone to do something. Wasn’t this only the first step?

Even before she’d completed the thought, Kirstan spoke up. _You know, kid, we’re going to add patience to the list of things I’m teaching you._

 _And all of you like to talk too much_ , Jennifer added. Faith heard the gentle teasing in her mental voice. _This is the first step, yes. From here, though…We’ll need another session for that. I can feel the strain. We’re fighting the meld, and we can’t do that and pool our power._

Faith frowned and monitored her connections to Willow and Dawn. It took a few tries before she saw what Jennifer referred to. A weakness. A place where her hold on the other two wavered and stretched thinly. _My bad_ , Faith mumbled to the group. She fought the urge to pull away and closed her hand around Dawn’s more tightly. That connection firmed. However, when she tried the same maneuver on Willow…

Her fingers slipped and seemed to fall through Willow’s. The group dimmed and the real view of the room sprang up in stark contrast to the ephemeral circle of people sitting on the area rug.

 _You can’t leave yet, Faith_ , Willow commented. _The party’s just started._

Energy poured through Faith, numbing her left side and making her head buzz. Reeling at the influx, she blinked – and the physical room disappeared.

 _Listen up, ladies. This is serious business._ Jennifer’s glare came through their link as a heavy weight settling on Faith’s shoulder. _This isn’t the place for showing off_.

Now Willow’s embarrassment colored the room in a rose-colored haze.

 _And you can’t do this with brute force, either._ Jennifer added.

 _Got it_. Faith didn’t bother looking to see how her own twisted emotions affected the group. She kept her focus on the two women sitting next to her and listened for more direction from their obvious leader.

An invisible hand brushed Faith’s shoulder. _This is advanced magic. If you aren’t used to it, it isn’t supposed to be easy. The important thing is that we managed to come together. The next time we try this…We add the next step._

 _When?_ Buffy asked. _The First isn’t going to wait forever. If you were right about us slowing it down…_

Faith picked up on the thought. _B’s got a point. Don’t we need to get this whole magic deal figured out before we got ‘Bringers coming through the windows again? Tell us what we gotta do, Momma Red, and let’s do it._

Agreement trickled through the link, and Faith relaxed marginally. At least most of them were on the same page.

 _I agree we’re in a hurry, but we need to stop, Faith,_ Tara said on the heels that thought. _You’re already going to wake up with a killer headache. We’re stretched too thin after last night. Let’s get some rest and try again this evening._

 _It makes sense, T. Tired ain’t half of what I’m feeling._ Not to mention the fact Kirstan had to be close to collapsing. Faith pushed for more, though. If the First showed up on the doorstep before they knew what the next step was… _Look, we don’t gotta do the whole thing. I just think it’s smart to make sure we’re good to go if the First shows up._

She felt Tara waver. The link wasn’t letting anyone hide their emotions. _I don’t think…_ Tara began to back away from her previous hard line refusal.

 _Enough, Faith._ Kirstan was adamant. _I’m old, I’m tired, and I’m half dead. We’re closing up shop for the day. I know we keep telling you to make the tough choices, and normally I’d sit back and let you do just that._

This wasn’t normal. Kirstan’s implication made reversing her decision easier. _I’m gonna give you a break this once, Old Timer. Next time, though…_ Faith turned to Jennifer. _How do we take this big-assed puzzle apart now?_

Jennifer’s mental thank you was faint but heartfelt. _Letting go is the easy part. Release your hold on the people next to you and bring your shields back up._ As if she had suited actions to words, Jennifer faded from Faith’s awareness.

One by one, the rest of the gang blinked out until only Dawn remained. _Alone at last,_ Dawn said with a smile. _I could get used to this. Seeing the New Faith._

 _Yeah, yeah._ Faith reluctantly released Dawn and blinked. The living room brightened around them and she stifled a groan as her muscles protested the prolonged time on the floor. “I thought this magic was supposed to be easier than Slayin’.” She stood, swaying unsteadily for a second, and looked at Jennifer. “Let me and B get the Old Timer settled. She’s too heavy for you to carry by yourself.”

***

Buffy tossed a leftover piece of broken table leg at Faith. “Hey, I didn’t volunteer to tote and carry. I’m on the injured list, remember?” She pointed to her bloody thigh.

If she was hoping for sympathy, she didn’t get any. “Suck it up, B. That’s just a scratch. The Old Timer took one in the back. Quit bitching and give me a hand.” Faith twirled the mini stake on her palm before dropping it on a chair.

Rolling her eyes, Buffy winked at Willow on her way to Kirstan’s spot on the floor. “I can bitch all I want. I’m not in charge anymore. It’s my job to make things as hard as possible for you. Think back.  I’m sure you can remember how you…helped me back in the day.” This was fun. Buffy enjoyed the chance to poke at Faith without fear of starting a fight.

When she reached Kirstan, Buffy knelt and levered a shoulder under Kirstan’s right arm.

Faith took the other side. “On three, B?”

“Shut up and move already,” Kirstan commented tightly. Buffy noticed the pinched look on her face. “I’ll be too old to fight the First if you two keep up the comedy routine. Practice on your own time.”

Sobering immediately, Buffy met Faith’s eyes and they rose in concert with Kirstan balanced between them.


	64. Chapter 64

“Ever think this was a bad idea?” Faith asked as they followed Jennifer out of the living room.

If she hadn’t been so busy trying to support Kirstan’s much taller body, Buffy might have responded with more than a gasp and, “Not until now.” In fact, now that they were staggering down the hallway like a modern version of the Three Stooges, Buffy admitted it would have been easier for her and Faith to have carried Kirstan.

Luckily, despite the poor planning, the trip through the house didn’t take long. That didn’t mean all three of them weren’t sweating and aching by the time she and Faith gently lowered Kirstan onto her bed.  The older Slayer was pale and her lips pressed together tightly.

Buffy automatically checked Kirstan’s shirt for signs of blood. All the moving around wasn’t recommended after getting stabbed. She relaxed slightly when she glimpsed only a few bright red dots staining the fabric. “I swear, when Will and I finally retire, I refuse to get fat like some people,” Buffy teased softly as she took a step away from the bed.

Kirstan’s lips twitched out of their grim line. “Wait until the kids come. Somehow, you’ll gain all the weight Willow won’t. Jenny never picked up an ounce…”

“I did, too,” Jennifer protested from the bathroom doorway. “You have selective memory. I looked like I’d swallowed a house, and you moaned and groaned every time you had to carry me up the stairs.” She walked closer and set a basin of water and some towels on the nightstand. “Thank you, girls. I think I can handle her from here.”

Buffy looked at Faith. “That’s our cue.” Rolling her shoulders, she plodded back into the hall. It had been a long day. “You doing OK?” Although she wanted to disappear into a bedroom with Willow, Buffy had to ask. Faith appeared more than simply tired. Dark bruises marred the flesh under her eyes and there wasn’t a hint of a smile or smirk in sight.

“Five by five, B,” Faith muttered. The phrase was familiar – and in no way comforting. “How ‘bout you? I was only joking about the scratch. You want me to look at the cut? Stitch it up?” Pointing at Buffy’s thigh, Faith indicated the gash.

“Please.” Lightly bumping into Faith, Buffy brushed off the concern. The wound was already healing, the skin knitting together. “It’ll be fine by tonight. You look like shit, though. Are you sure you don’t need Tara or Will to check you out?” Knowing Faith had never been big on letting anyone care for her injuries, Buffy added, “Dawn can get really mad if she thinks you’re not taking care of yourself. I thought she was going to tie me to the bed a few weeks ago when a vamp broke a couple of my ribs.”

That got a smile. “I can handle D,” Faith boasted. “Besides, if she wants to tie me to the bed…”

Buffy’s hand snapped up. “Don’t go there. I so don’t want to try sleeping with that image of my sister in my head.” She glared at Faith…and then chuckled when Faith’s smirk grew. “Bitch.”

“You know it, B. I might be New Faith, but some things ain’t never going to change.” Stopping at the bottom of the stairs, Faith tilted her head to one side. “Your girl’s up there, waiting for you. Hit the road, B. I’m gonna check on the new crew first.”

Wow. Buffy almost reached out to see if Faith was real. “Uh…OK,” she muttered and set her foot on the first step. “I can stay, if you need me to.” Her body overruled her mind even as she spoke and she climbed the next few steps before Faith had a chance to answer. As Faith had pointed out, Willow was waiting for her – and they’d collectively put Faith in charge. Buffy was free to leave. Letting that thought seep into consciousness, Buffy concentrated on the light brush of mental fingers on her mind.

“Get outta here, B, before Red comes down and blames me for slowing you down.” Faith’s comment barely penetrated Buffy’s awareness.

“Night,” Buffy managed to answer and then she picked up her pace. Taking the final few stairs two at a time, she hit the second floor landing and paused. Which room?

A pale blue mist appeared in the hallway as if conjured by her thoughts.

Buffy hesitated, testing the trail of energy with her senses. Not evil. Not by a long shot. The glowing trail felt distinctly ‘Willow’. “Guess this is my personal Willow-brick road,” she muttered with a grin. Following the strange homing beacon, Buffy made her way to the last room in the hallway and reached for the door handle.

The door swung open before she could complete the movement.

“What took you so long?” Willow’s voice asked.

“Uh…” Slipping inside, Buffy visually searched the small room. She could _feel_ Willow; there was no sight of her in the bedroom, though. “Will, come on. I’m too tired to play hide and seek.”

 _Party pooper,_ Willow grumped in Buffy’s mind. _I wasn’t planning on making you count to ten and then hunt me down. I’m in the bathroom…with your bubble bath. In case your Slayer senses aren’t working, you stink_.

The last comment was accompanied by a very clear image of Willow wrinkling her nose, and Buffy laughed. “Sorry, Will.” Plodding across the room, Buffy stuck her head through the partially open bathroom door with the intention of apologizing again.

The words stuck in her throat.

Surrounded by flickering candlelight and piles of frothy bubbles, Willow leaned against the back of a narrow tub.

Buffy’s exhaustion took a backseat to desire. “God…” The soft benediction was eclipsed by a growl as her post-battle desire rekindled. The ripped and blood-stained jeans Buffy wore became a pile of denim pieces on the tile floor; her shirt followed quickly.

“Now, Buffy,” Willow chided with a grin, “you didn’t exactly come with suitcases in hand. What are you going to wear to fight the First?”

Clothing wasn’t even on the list of things in Buffy’s mind. In two powerful steps, she stood at the side of the tub and stared down at the pale, freckled skin peeking above the bubbles. “I’ll try Faith’s demon fighting outfit,” she declared absently. “Somebody has to match that thing she did with the Church bus.”

Hmmm… Buffy purred when Willow giggled at her comment – and bubbles slipped and slid away from her jiggling breasts.

“I like it when you laugh.” It was a true statement; although, Buffy didn’t fully explain her enjoyment.

“Do you like the sound…or the view?” Willow wasn’t stupid. She pointed a finger at Buffy and tried to scowl. “Stop ogling me and get in. I can feel you touching me from over there, and I can tell you right now there are no cuddles to be had until you wash the dirt and blood off, Slayer.”

It was enough to prod Buffy out of her stupor. Lifting one foot, she searched for a Willow-free spot in the tub. The hot water seared her skin for the first few seconds until she was fully immersed. Then the tingling faded and the warmth soaked into her tired muscles. “You’re a genius, Will. And you take such good care of me.” Buffy spoke softly, but the words still echoed through the small room.

 _And I always will, Buffy._ Willow’s mental voice was much better. It didn’t fill the room; it filled Buffy instead. The feel of her hands and the washcloth gliding up and down Buffy’s arms mixed with mental caresses along their link. _We have a lifetime to spend together, sweetie. I’m not going anywhere._

 _I know_ , Buffy replied. Then she grinned wryly. _Well, I think my heart knows it. My head…_

An affectionate mental hand tapped Buffy’s head. _Stupid head. It needs to listen better. I’m right here, Buffy. With you in this tub, in the big fight, and in our future._

***

Willow continued to gently clean the grime from Buffy’s body, taking extra care with the healing cut on her leg, as she talked. _I’m not letting you back out now. I’ve got my wedding dress all picked out and our honeymoon spot reserved._

She thought for a second that Buffy was going to freak. The relaxed muscles under Willow’s hands twitched. _As long as you don’t have plans for a sunny beach, Will, we’re good. I’ve had enough sun and sand for one lifetime. How about something less swim-y and more snow-y? I haven’t seen snow since Mom took me and Dawn to visit our aunt in Illinois._

The link they shared didn’t allow Willow any privacy for her mental victory dance, and she heard Buffy’s laughter as she celebrated. _Will Montana do? Mom and Dad went there once, and they brought back a lot of pictures. It has mountains and snow… and privacy_. She purred the last word and stroked the washcloth over Buffy’s face. _We can find a little cabin somewhere and create our own Den of Love where there are no parents, sisters, or wanna-be Slayers around._

 _Perfect_. Buffy’s mental voice was fuzzy with a mixture of desire and exhaustion. _I can’t wait to leave. We aren’t even going to take the time to pack. We can buy what we need on the way_.

Of course, Willow picked up Buffy’s real intention behind the words. _We’ll burn the cabin down trying to stay warm if we’re naked the whole time,_ she replied fondly. Tossing the washcloth aside, Willow stood up and reached for one of the towels on the nearby rack. _But…you might be able to convince me to give it a try._

Buffy’s relaxed pose was a ruse now. Willow shuddered at the raw emotion flooding through their bond. Water cascaded to the floor as Buffy surged from the tub and ripped the towel from Willow’s hand and wrapped her up in it. “Be convinced,” Buffy stated.

Oops. Willow looked up into the molten copper eyes of the Slayer. “I’m naked now, Buffy.” Getting a hand free of her cotton cocoon, she reached out and stroked along Buffy’s neck. “And it’s plenty warm in here.” Stifling, in fact. “Why don’t you carry me to bed, and we can pretend we’re in our cabin right now.”

“I don’t need to pretend, Will.” Buffy’s voice was deep and rough. as the Slayer’s primitive speech patterns merged with Buffy’s normal tone. “For tonight, this _is_ our cabin – and I’m not letting you near clothes until the First is on the doorstep.” Her head bent and her lips claimed Willow’s as they moved out of the bathroom.

The towel disappeared moments later. The comforter was cool against Willow’s back when Buffy gently lay her down. “Who needs clothes?” Winding her legs around Buffy’s waist, Willow made sure her wife couldn’t escape. Droplets of the water still beading Buffy’s skin dripped onto her stomach and chest. “Someone’s getting me all wet, Slayer. You should have taken the time to dry off. Look at me.” With a smirk, Willow drew Buffy’s attention to the water drops on her chest by stroking a finger along her skin.

Buffy’s eyes followed the movement hypnotically. “Sorry…” she mumbled. One hand lifted and she started to reach for the towel that had fallen onto the floor below them.

“No, Slayer,” Willow disagreed. “We don’t need that.” She flexed her legs so that Buffy lay pressed against her. Threading her fingers into Buffy’s wet hair, she steered Buffy’s head closer to her chest.

It was all the encouragement Buffy needed.

The first water droplet evaporated under a puff of warm breath. Then, as if making sure Willow was completely dry, Buffy’s lips skimmed the same spot. “All gone,” she whispered softly. The lips lifted before finding the next wet patch. “Don’t worry, Will… I’ll take care of everything.”

***

Faith watched Buffy sprint up the stairs and chuckled. Someone was expecting to get lucky. Turning away from the staircase, the laughter faded. Well, luck wasn’t in her future. She had work to do. They all needed sleep – and to stay safe.

That meant putting sentries around the house.

Already sorting through the new faces and names of the Potentials and Watchers, Faith strode down the hall toward the living room.

“Is Kirstan alright?” Dawn met Faith at the doorway, wrapping her in a tight hug.

A purr tried to work its way out of Faith’s throat as she returned the embrace. “Five by five, D. Mama Red’s in there makin’ sure she’s comfy, if you know what I mean.” Some of Faith’s exhaustion faded as Dawn’s hands stroked up and down her back.

The almost-purr mutated into a yelp as one of Dawn’s hands gave up stroking and smacked into Faith’s butt. “I do, and that’s _not_ what Jennifer’s doing right now. And _you_ know what I mean.” With a wink and a light pat to the same spot she’d smacked, Dawn stepped away. “I thought you’d be in to check on things here so I waited for you. Xander and the Talking Heads are back. They’ve got a few things set up.”

“Wicked.” Faith grabbed one of Dawn’s hands and continued into the room. Only a few people remained around one of the larger research tables. “Hey, Soldier Boy. What did you and the troops come up with?”

Eyes bloodshot and face marred by stubble, Xander looked up from the notepad in front of him. “Well, General, me and the boys did our best.” Despite his obvious fatigue, he grinned and slid the notes across the table. “Take a look. We’ve split the crew up into teams, one experienced fighter, a Watcher, and a few Potentials on each. The teams rotate from perimeter watch to KP to sleep.”

It sounded too good to be true. How had their small group suddenly gotten big enough to cover that many tasks? “What’s the catch?” Faith asked, not bothering to read the illegible scribble on the paper.


	65. Chapter 65

“No catch,” Xander said immediately. “Once we stopped worrying about guarding the entire ranch, the math got easier. We pulled you and the magic crew out of the mix, though, Faith. I missed the practice session, but Dawnie filled me in. You’ve got other things to worry about. The rest of us can take care of the details while your gang figures out the important stuff like how to destroy the First.”

It was almost more than Faith could take in. The last time she’d talked to Xander, his news had all been grim. Now, though…Now it looked like they had a fighting chance. “Fuck, Xan, I’m thinking you should be in charge.” She wasn’t joking; Faith finally looked at the list of names on the paper Xander had given her with awe. It was so simple – and she knew she’d never have managed to do it herself.

As if sensing Faith’s sudden loss of confidence, Xander stood and stretched. “I may have the right memories, but that doesn’t mean I’m ready for a promotion. My Halloween persona was more familiar with small scale operations. I can move around a platoon of soldiers, sure. If things get more complicated, I’m out of my league.” He rubbed his eyes and yawned. “That’s why the Council or whoever created Slayers. Superheroes get the tough jobs like figuring out where the entire army goes.”

Rolling her eyes, Faith couldn’t resist pointing out the limitation of their ‘army.’ “We got thirty-four people, X-Man. That ain’t an army.” She broke off when Dawn put a hand on her shoulder.

“Numbers don’t matter, Faith. We’ve got something better: Slayers and witches.” With a wink at Xander, Dawn used the hand she’d placed on Faith’s shoulder to push her away from the research table. “Huh. It looks like Xander’s got it all covered for now. I guess that means I can force you upstairs for some…sleep.”

Faith, who had been resisting the gentle pushing, suddenly stopped trying to stay at the table. “Sleep,” she echoed. Meeting Dawn’s eyes, she felt a shiver work its way through her body. Those eyes weren’t tired – and they didn’t make Faith feel the urge to yawn. In fact, Faith clenched her hands to keep from simply tossing Dawn over her shoulder and sprinting for the stairs.

That was the old Faith.

The new Faith reached up and twined her fingers with Dawn’s, drawing the hand from her shoulder to her mouth. Her lips caressed Dawn’s palm. “The First’s gonna be knocking on the door soon. Need to be ready to rumble. You got something in mind to help us sleep real good?”

There was no verbal answer to her query. That didn’t mean Dawn had no response. A light tickle brushed Faith’s mind, followed by the faint sound of giggles.

Faith’s lips twitched at the mental sound. She didn’t reach out through their link, though. The solid weight of Dawn’s hand in hers was enough. It anchored Faith; it provided a focus for the desire slowly uncoiling inside.

“If you think you might need help, Faith…” Xander’s voice barely penetrated Faith’s consciousness. “I’m sure An can give you some pointers. Twelve hundred years gives her a lot of ideas about sleep.”

Tearing her eyes away from Dawn, Faith looked up. Xander smirked back at her. “Think D and I got it under control, Xan. I’m leavin’ you in charge down here. Get the groups set up and shit. If anything blows up…”

Xander nodded and waved. “We’ll come get you. Got it.”

When he turned away, Faith let her awareness of the room slip away. She gripped Dawn’s hand tighter and strode for the hallway. In silence, they completed the trip to the second floor of the house, joined only by their hands.

At the second floor landing, Dawn took the lead. Continuing down the hallway, she opened the first door on the right and walked into the same small bedroom they’d shared for their honeymoon. “Close the door,” Dawn ordered softly. Her hand fell away from Faith’s as she moved a few steps into the room.

Without a word, Faith put a palm out and did as requested. The move seemed to close them off from the rest of the world. Faith couldn’t hear anything outside the room. She and Dawn were alone. As if that thought were a subliminal signal, she felt muscles she hadn’t known were tense relax.

The relaxation didn’t last long. Her muscles went taut, and her breathing quickened as Dawn’s hands rose to the button on her shirt. Faith’s eyes were drawn to the tiny plastic circle as it slipped through the buttonhole.

“D, you don’t gotta…” Faith took a step toward Dawn and stopped when Dawn’s hands froze on the next button and a wave of refusal pressed through their link. Faith retraced her step and waited.

Dawn went back to the buttons. “I’m curious, Faith.” The shirt gaped open now, revealing a tantalizing strip of skin and the top edge of Dawn’s bra. “Are you always going to be like this? Hanging back? Waiting for me to tell you it’s OK to touch me?”

The questions were a surprise – although, they weren’t an inaccurate account. Faith flushed and then scowled to hide her reaction. “You were the one that told me to stop, D.” She knew exactly what Dawn meant, though. She _had_ been hanging back, objecting to Dawn’s obvious sexual invitation.

When Dawn’s strip tease didn’t resume, Faith closed her eyes and bowed to the inevitable.

Sometimes being a reformed Slayer and a new girlfriend sucked. “It ain’t what you think, D,” Faith muttered.

“What am I thinking, Faith? You haven’t asked me that. Not once.” Dawn moved closer; Faith heard the quiet footfalls, even though she refused to open her eyes and look. “You claim to know, but have you really _looked_ to see what’s in my mind?” Dawn was so close now that Faith felt warm breath caress her cheek. “You can do that now…”

Yes, she could. Faith frowned in confusion. She’d wanted that, wanted to have what Buffy and Willow so obviously shared. Now that it was right there, waiting for her to use, though, Faith wasn’t sure it was such a wonderful skill. Being that close to someone…

Dawn took the decision out of her hands. _What are you afraid of, Faith?_ Dawn’s mental voice was gentle, and a light brush of ephemeral fingers accompanied the question. _Anything you share through the bond…it’s only for us. I’m not going to run to Buffy or Willow and tell them all your secrets. I love you, Faith. I would never do that to you._

The invisible caressing continued; although, Dawn didn’t press for anything more. Slowly, carefully, Faith relaxed into the touch. _I…I love you, too, D._ The words were hard to say, and not just because the method of communication was relatively new. Faith didn’t back away, though. She _needed_ to tell Dawn the truth. She _wanted_ to. _And I don’t think you’d go running to B._ Laughter edged the link. _Never thought you were all that share-y with big sis._

The laughter turned into a yelp when Dawn stopped stroking and pinched in retaliation. _Meanie. And to think I was going to do something nice for you._ Her pout was just enough overdone that Faith knew Dawn was teasing.

“Nice? What kind of nice, D? Looked like you were all set for some slap and tickle when we got here.” Faith made sure to send an unspoken apology for shattering the mood through their link. The mental sharing wasn’t as scary as she’d imagined, but Faith _did_ feel as if her emotions were far too exposed. It was going to take time before opening herself to Dawn didn’t have her nearly running for cover.

A soft smile answered her comment. “The slap and tickle may be part of what we do, Faith. For now, though…” Dawn reached up and bracketed Faith’s face with her hands. “For now, I want to work on something with a little more meaning. Like making love.” Holding Faith’s head steady, she gazed deeply into her eyes. “Let me show you what I mean.”

All of Faith’s varied sexual experiences faded under Dawn’s stare. “Sure, D. Whatever you wanna do.” There was no doubt in her mind that Dawn could teach her a thing or two about love. She’d had Buffy, Joyce, and the Scoobies to give her the foundation that Faith had always lacked. Deliberately letting her hands hang at her sides, Faith tacitly gave Dawn permission to get started.

A ghost of a smile crossed Dawn’s face. “I’m not going to hurt you, Faith. That’s so not in the plans for tonight.” She stroked her fingers over Faith’s cheeks and lips, the touch light and languid. “Relax. I want you to enjoy the experience.” So slowly that Faith almost missed it, Dawn’s hands dropped lower. Chin, neck…

Faith shivered when the caresses reached the hollow of her throat and slipped inside her shirt. Her skin prickled, and it felt as if every hair on her body came to attention. The hands were gone the next second; although, Faith didn’t have time to mourn the loss.

Dawn maintained her leisurely trip down Faith’s body. Her next targets were Faith’s breasts. “I love you, Faith.” With her thumb and index fingers, she plucked at Faith’s peaked nipples through her shirt. “If I have to tell you that a hundred times a day for the rest of our lives to get you to believe me, I will.”

The pleasurable pain from the touches and the warmth in Faith’s chest from Dawn’s declaration mixed and swelled. Tears burned her eyes even as her head dropped back and she sucked in a deep breath. “Love…” Her voice caught for an instant as Dawn rubbed her thumbs in tight circles over her nipples. “Love you, too,” she finally managed to choke out only because Dawn’s hands were on the move again, and there was a break in the caresses.

“I know, baby. I know.” Faith’s hips surged forward as Dawn inserted one hand beneath the waistband of her jeans. The rasp of the zipper sliding down seemed to echo in her head as Dawn whispered, “I can feel your love, Faith. In my head and my heart. Do you know you tell me every second what you feel?”

Faith hadn’t known that. “D…” What else was she saying without being aware of it? And _who_ was she saying it to? She stiffened.

“Stop.” Dawn didn’t follow her own command. Instead, she shoved Faith’s jeans over her hips. “I’m the only one who can feel your emotions, Faith. It’s our bond. Remember how you wanted it to work like Buffy’s but you didn’t think you could do it?” Dawn’s voice carried a hint of smugness as she said, “You can; we were able to talk in the big group meld. I know you can do it when we’re alone, too. You can do anything Buffy can do. ”

A silent, “Only better,” rang in Faith’s head and she laughed.

“Easy, D. I’m gettin’ over my Second Slayer problems all on my own. You don’t need to be that way.” That didn’t mean Faith hadn’t enjoyed Dawn’s pride in her accomplishments. In fact…It gave her the courage and motivation to ignore her unease, and she reached out to Dawn through their bond. _I like knowin’ you’re in my corner, D. Ain’t never been anybody there before you._

“I’m your biggest fan, Faith.” Dawn’s body pressed into Faith’s legs as she dropped to her knees and removed her boots. “Fan, coach, lover, friend…Whatever you need, that’s what I’ll be.”

 _All I need is you, D. You ain’t gotta **be** anything else_. For the first time, Faith realized that using the link meant never having to worry that Dawn wouldn’t understand her meaning. Her mental voice was more than mere words. Each one was a thought, filled with colors and textures and the emotions she had always been afraid to admit. Her fear melted away as she placed a hand on Dawn’s shoulder for balance and stepped out of her pants. Opening her mind fully, Faith invited Dawn inside.

A bubble of happiness floated into their bond. _Thank you, Faith._ The bubble shimmered and contracted and then expanded as if Dawn’s emotions had blown into it. When it touched Faith, it popped soundlessly, coating Faith in everything Dawn was feeling.

The outer world faded away.

Faith didn’t care. She was wrapped in Dawn’s arms and supported by the gentle waves of Dawn’s love. Letting her lips trace a path along Dawn’s throat, Faith relished Dawn’s shiver and the shimmering red-gold flame of their shared desire in her mind. _Show me more about love, D._


	66. Chapter 66

Faith shivered and burrowed closer to Dawn. The damned air conditioning must be on Arctic. Goose bumps rose on the exposed skin of her arms and chest, and she shivered convulsively. Luckily, Dawn didn’t seem to feel the chill in the air. Faith burrowed closer, letting Dawn’s body heat eclipsed the cold. Mmmm, that was better. Smiling in sleepy satisfaction, Faith nuzzled her head under Dawn’s chin.

Want, take, have was a bad idea. Love and cuddling ruled.

Eyes drifting closed again, Faith pressed a light kiss to the flesh beneath her lips. She was so tired. So…very…tired… Unfortunately, she was also hungry. Her stomach grumbled and then growled in clear protest. Sleep could wait. Food could not.

Stifling a growl of her own, Faith wiggled slowly out of Dawn’s embrace. “Sorry, D,” she whispered. “Fucking Beast is a pain in the ass.”

Dawn didn’t answer; she only rolled into the space Faith had just abandoned and clutched Faith’s pillow to her chest.

“Keep me a spot all warm.” Leaning down, Faith brushed her lips over Dawn’s hair. It was easier to do with no one there to witness. “I’ll be right back with some grub.” She maintained her watch over Dawn as she pulled on her clothes and then reluctantly turned away, slipping quietly out of the room.

***

With a moan of protest, Willow rolled over and reached for Buffy. Cool, empty sheets met her hand. “Buffy?” Prying one eye open, she peered around the darkened room.

Buffy was nowhere in sight.

“Buffy?” Panic was instinctive. Willow sat up and swung her legs off the bed. Had something happened? Why hadn’t Buffy woken her? Mind fuzzy with sleep and a touch of fear, she stepped into her clothes.

“Hey, what are you doing up?” Buffy appeared from the bathroom. “I didn’t mean to wake you.” She hovered uncertainly halfway between the other room and the bed. “Will? You OK?”

Blushing, Willow slipped back under the covers. “Hi.” She snuck a look at the clock. “Did we really sleep that long?” Her explanation to Buffy got derailed by the time. “Fourteen hours? No way!”

Buffy laughed. “That’s right. I got up and reset it just to see your eyes pop out of your head.”

“Yeah, yeah. Rub it in…” Willow leaned against the pillows and narrowed her eyes at Buffy. “I can’t believe nothing happened. I mean, since when did we _ever_ get to sleep this long without something going wrong?” A grin crept out. “Maybe I shouldn’t say that out loud. It might summon Xan to the door.”

“If he knocks, it’s all on you, Hirsch.” Raising her hands over her head, Buffy stretched. “God, that feels good.”

It looked good, too, since Buffy hadn’t dressed for her trip to the bathroom. “Why don’t you come back to bed, and I can…” Willow started in a sultry murmur.

Unfortunately, her earlier comment _had_ summoned trouble.

A shout sounded from the hallway, and fire raced along Willow’s nerves. “Buffy! The wards…” Gasping against the mystical alarm bells ringing in her head, she waved a hand at the door. “The First…here.”

Buffy frowned. “Head downstairs, Will. Make sure everyone’s armed and ready. I’ll grab Faith and Dawn. We’ll do a sweep up here before coming down.”

Catapulting out of bed, Willow scrambled into her discarded clothing. “No. Don’t waste time looking up here. I can send some of the Potentials up. We need to get the Circle set.” The continued warning from the wards made it hard to focus. It took two tries to button her shirt.

“Circle?” Buffy seemed confused for a second.

“Lots of hand holding and mind sharing…” Willow yanked the zipper on her jeans up and stuffed her feet into her tennis shoes. “ _That_ Circle.” She ran for the door, barely noticing Buffy still standing unarmed and unclothed in the middle of the room. “Buffy! Wake up!”

Seeming to shake herself, Buffy nodded. “One wide awake Buffy here. Sorry. It’s been almost a day since the last big fight. I think I forgot what to do. It’s coming back to me now, though.” She took a step toward the closet.

Willow rolled her eyes. Retirement sounded better and better all the time. She _wanted_ to forget how to rush off to battle. “Be careful,” she called over her shoulder as she opened the door and ran into the hallway.

It was empty. The fight hadn’t reached the second floor yet; although, Willow could hear the sounds of clanging metal and more shouting from below. Her feet barely touched the steps as she raced to help.

Her first opportunity tumbled into view before she made it all the way down the staircase.

A ‘Bringer and Potential crashed onto the bottoms steps. “Get your…” Willow couldn’t see which of the new girls was shouting. All she saw was a flash of blonde hair and the top of the ‘Bringer’s head. “…your fucking hands _off_ me!”

A pained grunt emerged from the ‘Bringer in response to a sharp blow to the side of his head.

Despite the fact that the Potential appeared to have things under control, Willow pulled in a small amount of power and snapped her right hand up, palm out. _Control,_ she chanted to herself. This wasn’t going to be like the library. She simply wanted to give the Potential the upper hand. In response to her mental pep talk, a baseball-sized globe of blue energy flared to life and flew across the intervening distance.

It hit the ‘Bringer’s back and exploded soundlessly. A line of flames blazed from his robes at the point of impact, and he reared back.

The Potential responded as well – and her sword buried itself in the Bringer’s chest. He dropped lifelessly to the floor seconds before Willow’s magical fire engulfed his still form.

“Nice job,” Willow commented hoarsely. The smell of burning flesh filled nose and throat. Keeping the magic under control hadn’t worked the way she’d planned; nor had it made the act of killing any easier. Eyes averted from the smoldering ‘Bringer, Willow continued her trip down the stairs. She barely slowed her pace as she extended a hand to help the Potential up. “I should have let you finish him off.” Then maybe Willow wouldn’t have felt such an overwhelming need to throw up. “Sorry for butting in.” She knew how touchy Buffy had always gotten in similar situations – not that they’d happened all that often. “Where are the rest of them? The library?”

“And the kitchen.”  Hopping up, the Potential dragged Willow in that direction. “Pretty much the whole floor. I was on my way to get you. Your wife’s going to kill me if she finds out you had to save _me_ from that ‘Bringer.”

“Well, then we won’t tell her.” There wasn’t time for more. Willow spotted more fighting at the end of the hallway. “Stay out of the way,” she warned. “I don’t want to singe you on accident.” There were too many robed figures for the small group of Potentials and Watchers she glimpsed. Ignoring the continued sickness roiling her stomach, Willow reached for the magic again. Her hands tingled as the power flared. If the First wanted to play, she was more than happy to join in.

Zeroing in on the robes that set the ‘Bringers apart from the good guys, Willow tossed two more fireballs.

Shocked screams and bellows of pain echoed through the crowded room.

“Red!” Faith appeared at her side. “Fuck, B was about to have a cow. You get lost on the way down?” Gripping Willow’s arm tightly, she dragged her away from the fighting. “We got the magic crew in the other room, waiting on you.”

Their progress probably wasn’t as fast as Faith wanted. She scowled fiercely as their exit was impeded. With more force than absolutely necessary, Faith lashed out with her left arm, blocking a knife thrust by a ‘Bringer before sending her other fist straight into his nose.

Willow huddled behind Faith. This time, she kept her magic locked away. There were too many people now. Not even the robes helped distinguish friend from foe. Not to mention a new wave of ‘Bringers entered the kitchen through the shattered windows. “Faith!” Willow tried to warn the other girl of the increasing threat.

“Motherfuckers,” Faith snarled, turning her head where Willow indicated. She shoved Willow toward the kitchen door and knocked the dazed and bleeding ‘Bringer to the floor. “Hit the road, Red. Get the magic shit started; I’ll join ya’ as soon as I know the kiddies can handle this.”

Torn, Willow hesitated. “Faith…” The Circle wouldn’t work without all of them. Even Faith. Any arguments she had, though, disappeared when the first Potential went down with a dagger sprouting from her chest.

Neither of them was leaving. Not yet.

She couldn’t risk too much magical expenditure – and she had to be careful. Willow kept those thoughts firmly in mind as she keyed open the gate to her reservoirs. The power rushed through her channels, filling them until her skin felt tight. “Everybody _down!_ ”

Most of the new Scoobies obeyed, and a horde of ‘Bringers stared sightlessly at Willow across suddenly empty space. The tableau lasted for a long second – until a single robed figure rushed forward.

Responding instantly, Willow thrust both hands forward and used her magic like an invisible sword blade. In a tight, thin line, it spread across the room in a shimmering blue wave.

It struck the impatient Bringer at chest level.

He screamed, and the sound rang in Willow’s ears with ever-increasing volume. She fought her automatic response to pull back on the magic – and watched as he was sliced in half by the leading edge of the energy she’d thrown at him and his companions.

A flood of red sprayed the kitchen. Warm droplets pelted Willow’s face and arms. She absently rubbed at them, eyes locked onto the glowing magical blade as it continued through the ranks of Bringers. Some perverse inner impulse made Willow count each of her victims. One…two… By the time the power drained away, her eyes were blurred with tears and the body count had reached twenty.

Blood dripped in slow paths down the cabinets and off the counters. It slicked the floor and pooled beneath the corpses strewn in piles only feet away. Willow gagged at the sharp copper scent that hung in the air.

“Let’s go.” Faith’s voice echoed weirdly in Willow’s ears. A warm hand touched her shoulder, the fingers gently gripping and pulling her slowly away from the carnage. “We have to start the Circle. There are too many of them.”

Willow’s eyes flickered away from the nightmarish view in the kitchen. More ‘Bringers hovered uncertainly outside the shattered windows and the open exterior door.

The hand on her shoulder succeeded in turning Willow completely away from the aftermath of her magical attack. Faith stared at Willow with…something Willow couldn’t identify. “B’s waitin’ in the den, Red. She’ll be glad to see you.” Her hand slid down Willow’s arm until their fingers locked.  “Just to let ya’ know… I ain’t ever gonna piss you off, Red. No fucking way.”

The huskily whispered statement shocked a bark of laughter out of Willow, and the images of the dead ‘Bringers retreated in her memory. “Don’t make promises you can’t keep,” she advised. Pulling on Faith’s arm, Willow headed for the hallway. They had to dodge more Potentials and Watchers, and Willow saw Gunn and Wesley beginning to take control of the fighters in the room. At least her magic had given them all a chance to regroup. That made the stack of dismembered bodies worth it. Didn’t it?

Willow wasn’t able to answer her own internal question before she and Faith hurtled into the den.  “Sorry we’re late,” she gasped out. “It’s a little crowded out there.” Releasing Faith’s hand, Willow dropped to the floor next to Buffy, barely refraining from climbing into her lap and huddling there until the images disappeared entirely.

“Glad you could make it, Will.” Her fingers traced a path along Willow’s jaw. “Are…are you OK?” She held up her hand, and Willow saw it was stained with blood.

The blood that she’d been covered in when she slaughter the ‘Bringers.

“It’s not mine.” Willow didn’t know what else to say. If she told Buffy what she’d done…

“Try this, Red.” Holding out a fistful of tissues, Faith moved closer to Willow’s other side. “It’ll get rid of the worst of it.”

Seizing the offering, Willow scrubbed at her arms and face until the tissue was a pink-mottled mess. Streaks of blood still dotted her hands, and she could feel some drying in sticky patches on her neck.

As if sensing Willow’s spiraling emotions, Buffy twined her fingers with Willow’s. “I knew I shouldn’t have let Faith talk me into sneaking downstairs to make breakfast for you and Dawn,” she teased with a wink. “Bad things _always_ happen when I’m in the kitchen.”

Kitchen? Buffy had been in the kitchen? Her preoccupation with the bloodstains ended abruptly. Willow opened her mouth and tried to form words as a new fear – and realization – nearly stopped her heart. “You were in the bathroom, Buffy.”

She could see Buffy didn’t understand her point. “Huh? Yeah, I was. Before Faith tapped on the door. Did I wake you up? I didn’t mean to.”

Their conversation was interrupted when Kirsten cleared her throat. “How about you figure out where Buffy was later, girls? We have a few - more important - things to worry about now.” She pointed to their joined hands. “Let’s get this Circle set; we still have to figure out how to find and then defeat the First.”

It was a very good point, but it wasn’t entirely accurate. “We don’t have to find the First. I know where it is…” Willow winced as Buffy’s fingers nearly crushed her own at her statement. “It’s upstairs. In our bedroom.” Raising her eyes, Willow looked at Jennifer. “With the Scythe.”


	67. Chapter 67

“What? How did…?” Kirstan’s voice was the first to break the silence.

Jennifer’s, however, was only a second behind. “How did it get through the wards? Didn’t you feel it, Willow?”

No. She hadn’t, Willow internally answered Jennifer’s question. She hadn’t felt anything – because she’d been too distracted. By panic. By desire. By the sudden shattering of the wards. “The First has the Scythe,” Willow repeated. That was more important than the rest of the comments swirling with increasing volume through the small room.

“It ain’t like it can use the thing, Red.” Faith shrugged, seemingly the only one not concerned about Willow’s news. “No form, remember? What’s the big deal?”

For an instant, Willow let herself be swayed by Faith’s reassurances. She was right. The First wasn’t corporeal. It couldn’t pick up the Scythe and kill anyone with it.

Unfortunately, not everyone was willing to let the matter drop. “What about the priest? Couldn’t he use it? Or one of the ‘Bringers?” Kirstan scowled. “We can’t take any chances. The First was obviously after the Scythe. Why else would it appear to Willow and then stay behind in the bedroom? There has to be a reason.” Clearly, she thought it had to be something bad. “Jenny, can we put some kind of ward around the Scythe to keep the First from using it?”

Jennifer’s head shook immediately in denial. “Even if we could, it’s already found a way through the wards on the house. Nothing I could create would be stronger than those. We’d just be wasting time and power. Let’s stick with the plan. Form the Circle and try to overload the First. It’s the best option.”

“You heard the lady.” Kirstan, at least, was willing to let Jennifer pick their options. “Let’s get started; I don’t want to be fighting the magic when the First or those ‘Bringers come charging through the door.”

Sharing a disbelieving look with Buffy, Willow slowly stood.  If Kirstan was right about the First, they couldn’t afford to ignore the problem. The Circle was a long shot at best, anyway. Now, with the First’s move for the Scythe,  their strategy appeared even less likely to succeed. “No.” Her quiet refusal seemed to echo in the room. Searching for words, Willow tried to explain her reasoning. “We can’t sit here and wait. This whole plan… It only works if we have more power than the First. If it _can_ somehow use the Scythe, we’re dead.”

An unspoken, “We might be anyway,” flitted through Willow’s mind.

Willow shook that off. They’d faced the threat of annihilation more times than she cared to remember. “Buffy and I will go upstairs and get the Scythe. Jennifer, you pull the Circle together. We’ll be back before you know it.” She tacked on the last in an effort to combat the raised eyebrow she received from Jennifer.

“If you think I’m letting you go up those stairs,” Jennifer said from between tightly clenched teeth.  “You’ve obviously not been paying attention the last few days. This isn’t the Buffy and Willow Show. Give us a few minutes, and we’ll come up with another plan.”

“We don’t have time…” Willow broke off when Jennifer’s hand snapped up, palm out.

When her voice trailed away, the palm turned into a single finger and pointed imperiously at the carpet. “Sit. Down.” There was no doubt in Willow’s mind that Jennifer wasn’t going to listen to anything she had to say.

***

Willow was floundering. Buffy pressed her lips together to hide a smile at the sight. She remembered that feeling. So very well. Her mother had been a master of The Eyebrow and between-the-teeth-orders. “Sorry, Jennifer,” Buffy said, amusement taking a backseat to urgency as she contemplated what Willow proposed they do. “Planning sessions take time. And we don’t have a lot of that. Not with ‘Bringers in the house and the First on the move.” Reaching out, Buffy gripped Willow’s hand and pulled her toward the door. She paused just long enough to pick up the sword Kirstan had propped against the couch at the far side of the room.

The group behind them was silent – until Buffy pulled the door open. “Maybe you and Red should stay here, B. Like you said, you’re out of the game. Me and D can do the deed.” Faith started to stand, and Buffy saw Dawn shift from her position as well.

“Next time.” Buffy met Faith’s eyes, seeing her own fear reflected there. “You need to stay here, in case…”

Dawn’s sharp intake of breath convinced Buffy not to say any more.

Nodding slowly, Faith indicated she’d gotten the point, though. “Be careful, B.” Faith’s smirk appeared forced as she retook her seat on the floor. “I don’t wanna have to deal with D if you end up dead. Ain’t real good with tears and shit.”

Hand tightening around the hilt of her weapon, Buffy responded, “Rule number one, Faith. Don’t get dead. Like I told you in Sunnydale, it’s always been my motto.” Then she turned back to the body-strewn hallway with Willow right behind her.

The door closed with a soft thump.

Senses on high, Buffy stayed alert. Although there wasn’t any fighting in the narrow hallway, the sounds of battle rang from both directions. Metal clanged against metal. Shouts mixed with moans. Buffy quivered with conflicting impulses. She’d been _the_ Slayer for too long. Her place was on the front lines. Not here. Not creeping past a dead ‘Bringer and praying that no one saw them.

“What’s the plan?” Willow whispered suddenly as Buffy’s foot settled on the first step.

“The plan?” Buffy parroted automatically. She continued to climb toward the second floor but stopped scanning their path long enough to give Willow an incredulous look. “Going up here was _your_ idea. I thought _you_ had a plan!”

A familiar quirky grin answered her. “Um…not so much, really.”

Dear God. Panic curdled in Buffy’s stomach and the hand clutching the sword hilt slipped from the sudden flood of sweat slicking her palm. “Will! The First is upstairs. I don’t want to sound like Giles, but a plan is of the good.” In fact, her mind was already racing, examining all of their options, searching for a way to complete the mission – and stay alive.

“Until the First has a form, Buffy, the only thing it can do is mess with our minds.” Willow moved closer, her body heat warming Buffy’s back. “You’ve already dealt with that. All we have to do is go in, take the Scythe, and ignore whatever games it tries to play.”

It sounded simple. Too simple. Willow hadn’t had to handle talking with Joyce. Even knowing the _thing_ in the room hadn’t been her mother, Buffy wasn’t ready to confront it a second time.  The First was good at what it did. Waltzing past more images of all the people who’d died…

This was so not going to be simple.

Unfortunately, Buffy couldn’t come up with anything better. Swords didn’t work against ghostly apparitions. “Go in, get the Scythe, let it play musical bodies. Got it.” She tried to sound confident and ready for anything, praying her fear was well hidden.

Too soon for her piece of mind, they reached the second floor landing. “Wait a second,” Buffy cautioned Willow. “There might be ‘Bringers.” Although, as soon as she said that, she felt ridiculous. The hallway was empty and quiet, and the only warning on her senses was the bright blaze of evil emanating from their bedroom.

Not trusting in that ephemeral sense of safety, Buffy shoved Willow farther behind her and inched toward the bedroom door.

Nothing leaped from any of the other rooms.

Buffy was nearly trembling by the time she stopped in front of the door. Too much worry. Too many different stimuli. Her head whirled and her muscles ached from being clenched so tightly. “I go in first.” Being a little off her game didn’t mean Buffy had completely forgotten her duty. She was the Slayer – and Willow’s wife. Protecting her was part of the package.

“Buf…” Willow started to say.

“Not gonna argue, Will.” Reinforcing her announcement by speaking through their link, as well as verbally, Buffy glared over her shoulder until Willow nodded tightly. “Thank you.” Some of the fear drained away, the small flare of relief only heightening Buffy’s lightheadedness. “On three.” Sword held away from her body, Buffy raised her right foot slowly. “One.”

Her focus narrowed to the spot right below the door handle.

“Two.” Buffy drew her knee straight up and close in to her chest. “Three!” Her foot was a blur as it shot forward.

Buffy’s aim was true. The door flew inward, tearing from the hinges and caroming into the room.

***

Faith watched the door close behind Buffy and bit back a growl. Why did Buffy, the _retired_ Vampire Slayer, get to go off and fight the First? Wasn’t that supposed to be _her_ job now? Instead…Instead, Faith was trapped in this tiny room with the witches. “You heard, B.” Buffy’s unspoken reminder replayed in her mind. What she wanted wasn’t the issue. “Time to hold hands and get all in touch with ourselves.”

“But Willow…” Drew peered around the incomplete Circle. “We don’t have enough power without her. She wasn’t even sure we’d have enough with her _here_!”

Things were already falling apart. No one had moved to join hands, and Faith didn’t feel the annoying tickle in her head that meant anyone had tried to make contact mentally.

It was time for a little shock therapy to get things moving. The New Scoobies could panic and fall apart after the battle was over.

“Look, Little Red, there’s some things to know about Red and B.” The reconciliation with Buffy and Willow made the next part hard. Faith didn’t have a lot of remaining Scooby Hate to use as a backup. She was going to have to manufacture her mockery all on her own. “When the chips are down…” Her smirk felt wrong, and Faith had no doubt anyone familiar with the expression would know she was putting on an act. “They got this need to be the only ones grabbin’ the glory. Deal and move on.”

Faith might not have been at her best, but she was still good enough to hit the right buttons. Drew’s eyes widened – and then blazed with anger.

“You bitch!” Only Tara’s restraining hand on her arm kept Drew from hurtling across the space between her and Faith.

Maintaining her scornful expression, Faith waited to see if her comment would garner reactions from anyone else.

“Drew, sit down. Goddess, I thought we’d taught you better self control than that.” Kirstan glared at a still irate Drew before transferring her eyes to Faith. “And you… Do you have to piss everyone off? Is _that_ why Buffy thought she needed a straightjacket after asking you to look after Dawn?”

Faith’s flinch was automatic. And visible. “Could be.” Not even making up with Buffy made Kirstan’s comment hurt less. “It wasn’t like I played nice when I was in SunnyD. Scoobs have got a lot of reasons to hate me, Old Timer.” Meeting Kirstan’s eyes, Faith sidestepped discussing the issue further. “That’s between me and them. You and the kid done wasting time? In case you forgot, Red and B are about to take on the First.” She let that sink in for just a second. “Alone. We don’t get this Circle shit off the ground, not even Red’s new mojo is keepin’ them alive.”

She was so focused on Kirstan and the need to get the older Slayer back on track that she forgot about Dawn. Warm fingers gently stroked her thigh. “Faith’s right. We have to stop wasting time. Buffy and Willow are probably upstairs by now.”

Loud, metallic banging rang out just beyond the door.

“Not to mention the fact that we’ve got a war going,” Dawn continued. “Let’s get started.” 

Less than a heartbeat later, Faith felt the first touch through her link with Dawn. _Now I know why there weren’t a lot of New Scoobies over the years. It takes too long to get them used to the pace. At this rate, the world will have almost ended a dozen times before they stop messing around._

It took everything Faith had not to laugh out loud. _Be nice, D_. She ignored the fact that she hadn’t exactly followed her own advice when she’d purposely antagonized Drew. Faith joined their hands and closed her eyes.

It was easier this time. Faith wasn’t afraid to pull down her barriers. At least, not with Dawn. She held out her astral hand and smiled in satisfaction when Dawn took it firmly. Settling into the familiar feel of Dawn in her mind, Faith took several slow breaths.

Then, before she could lose her new-found confidence, Faith extended her senses in the opposite direction.

Tara was there waiting. Her touch was soothing. Like Dawn, without the sexual overtones.

  _Really? Don’t let Drew hear you think that. You’ve got her pretty twisted up already. I don’t want to have to patch her up after she tries to tear your head off_ , Tara warned with a hint of laughter in her mental voice.

Faith felt a flush heat her physical cheeks, and saw pink tinge her inner sight. _Sorry, T. Didn’t mean nothin’._

More gentle laughter and a waft of forgiveness soothed Faith’s embarrassment. _Don’t worry. I’ll keep your secret safe._ _Now… the Circle’s complete. Let’s see what Jennifer wants us to do._


	68. Chapter 68

The sudden internal quiet that followed Tara’s comment was shocking. Faith had never felt anything remotely like it. She floated, only dimly conscious of the five people linked with her.

 _Since the plans have changed,_ Jennifer’s mental voice rippled gently through Faith’s mind, _we’re taking a cautious approach._ Before Faith could disagree, Jennifer continued. _With Buffy and Willow upstairs, this Circle is the last line of defense against the First. We stay linked, we stay focused, and we stay alive._

When she put it like that… Faith nodded physically; although, she felt the agreement from the rest of the Circle. Unfortunately, understanding the logic didn’t mean she didn’t have something to say.  _You plannin’ to let Red and B deal with the First alone?_ That thought rankled, and it went against everything the Scoobies stood for. Faith might never have reached full member status, but she knew that much

Jennifer didn’t appear to have an answer, though. There was no soothing mental voice, only a sharp echo of regret.

No way. Faith wasn’t accepting that. Staying alive might be the ultimate goal, but it wasn’t the _only_ goal. Squeezing Dawn’s hand tighter and pulling her even closer through their link, Faith crossed a mental line. _If you ain’t gonna help ‘em out, Mama Red, me and D will._ She managed to keep the thought from sounding too accusatory. This wasn’t about playing General Faith. This was about beating the First while keeping as many of the gang alive as she could. 

 _Drew and I are in, too._ Tara’s mental voice was confident and firm. _And I think I know how we can help Buffy and Willow get the Scythe._

Faith held her breath and waited.

Her patience paid off after what seemed like an eternity. _We’re in, too,_ Kirstan said. She overrode the resistance Faith still sensed from Jennifer. _It’s been a long time since we’ve been in the trenches, ladies. The pace is a lot faster than I remember._

Not to mention they probably hadn’t dealt with anything even close to the power of the First. Faith kept that firmly in mind as she accepted Kirstan’s help. _It’s like ridin’ a bike, Old Timer. Strap on the helmet and pads and shit, and hang on. You’ll be back without the trainin’ wheels in no time._ They were as close to full agreement as they were likely to get. Faith turned her attention away from team building. _T? What do you got in mind?_

***

Their entrance should have been fantastic, a testament to their status as superhero and superwitch. Unfortunately, reality was harsh and deflating. Instead of finding a stunned and off-balance First, Buffy leaped into the bedroom and confronted…

“Did your Watcher teach you dat?” Kendra stood ramrod straight in front of the bed and frowned in distaste. “I was taught dat hunting vampires and demons was an art. Kickin’ in doors, jumpin’ into rooms… It is not seemly for a Slayer to act like she was takin’ part in a video game.”

Buffy faltered for a second, staring at the perfectly composed vision in front of her. Kendra seemed so real.  So alive. If Buffy reached out, she could touch her. And that was a problem. This wasn’t Kendra, despite the flawless reproduction. This was the First, and Buffy’s Slayer senses recoiled from the feel of the evil only a few feet away. “If this was a video game, I’d have already kicked your ass and picked up the points for grabbing the cool weapon over there.” She tried to keep from appearing too interested in the Scythe as it rested against the nearby nightstand.

For a non-human entity, the First reacted like one. Kendra scowled and lunged forward a step. “You will be the loser dis time. There will be no interference from de PtB to save you.”

“Newsflash,” Willow taunted from her position behind Buffy’s shoulder. “Not a vamp about to go poof in the sunlight. We don’t need a snowstorm.” Through their link, Buffy felt Willow pulling in power. “You might, though, when we fry you.”

There was a swirling sensation in Buffy’s head, followed by a moment of complete enervation.

“Get the Scythe, Buffy!” Willow shouted.

Buffy watched in dazed fascination, unable to move, as a bolt of white-hot flame shot over her shoulder. The Scythe. Buffy fought off her momentary weakness at that galvanizing thought and dove toward the head of the bed. Behind her, more bright lights and magical pyrotechnics exploded soundlessly.

She had almost reached the Scythe when a black-clad figure seemed to materialize in front of her. “You will not stop the work of the Lord,” he intoned.

Recognizing the Roman collar and the chilling intensity of the man’s speech, Buffy rolled to her feet – empty handed – and faced him. “Oh, I plan to do more than just stop him.” She spun on her left heel, swinging her right leg around in a tight arc toward the priest’s head.

He moved out of the way, brushing her foot aside with his left hand. With a pleased smirk, he launched an offensive of his own, driving Buffy back several steps with a series of punches. “Thankfully, I am here to protect the Lord’s mission from your interference.”

Avoiding the attack was difficult. The man was fast and strong. Far faster and stronger than Buffy had anticipated. As she ducked one flailing hand and sidestepped another, Buffy realized she had run out of room. Willow was right behind her, and the bed and the First hemmed her in on the other side.

***

Willow watched the levin bolt spring from her hand at the First. It had worked! She ignored the rapid dip of her reservoir and readied another one. She needed to cover Buffy as she retrieved the Scythe.

It became clear, however, that Willow should have listened to Drew and Jennifer discuss magic use and the First. The bolt of energy passed harmlessly through the First, leaving a jagged scorch mark on the wall.

Oops.

Determined to keep Buffy safe, Willow tried again. This time, though, she altered her mode of attack. Instead of a burst of pure power, she extended a thin layer of magic between herself and the First. Inch by inch, Willow pushed it outward, imitating her earlier efforts to shield the house. Unlike that unsuccessful effort, this barrier was denser, thanks to the smaller area to cover.

“Do you really think that’s going to do anything?” Willow’s shielding faltered when Jenny Calendar crossed her arms over her chest and regarded her with a disappointed expression. “Maybe Rupert was right – not that I’d ever tell _him_ that. He’d never let me live it down.”

“Ms…Ms. Calendar?” It suddenly hurt to breathe. Willow sucked in a labored lungful of air and stared at the woman in front of her.

A familiar smile replaced Jenny’s frown. “Has it been that long? I didn’t think you’d forget me so quickly. I was your mentor. Your first teacher in the Arts.” She held out a hand. “You’ve grown so powerful. Why don’t you sit down, Willow? I’m sure there are a lot of other things I’ve missed. You can fill me in.”

Willow took a step forward, raising her hand. Her fingers reached for Jenny’s. Almost touching. Almost…And then Buffy shattered the illusion as she staggered into Willow’s view, nearly bumping into her. Barely avoiding the collision as Buffy struggled with a tall man, Willow shook her head. Damn it. She’d been the one to explain what little threat the First posed. Yet she was the one getting sucked in by its ability to mimic the dead.

Testing out her magical reservoir, Willow turned back to the _thing_ that wore Jenny’s face. There was plenty of power in the pool. Should she use it? The blackened spot on the wall suggested not. To buy time, Willow met Jenny’s eyes and said, “You don’t look good, Ms. Calendar. Kind of thin in places, if you know what I mean.” She gestured at the bed. “Maybe you should lie down for a bit.”

Her verbal poke didn’t have the result Willow had hoped for. The First stopped smiling and now the evil was visible on Jenny’s face. “I am tired of playing with you.”

Something possessed Willow. That must have been why, without thinking, she mocked the First. “You aren’t doing much of anything. It’s your bruiser boyfriend over there that seems to be playing with Buffy.” A quick glance over her shoulder showed Willow that the fight was anything but a sparring match – and Buffy’s battered countenance and slowing movements didn’t indicate she was winning.

It was time for Willow to get back in the fight.

She tuned out Jenny’s voice as the First responded to her taunt. The First had tried its only trick and failed. Buffy needed her help with the priest. Willow didn’t even contemplate jumping into the battle physically. She’d only get in the way. No, her contribution had to be something more arcane.

The room disappeared as Willow sent her awareness deep inside. She surfed along her channels, testing and stirring up the waves of magic until they threatened to spill from their boundaries. Willow’s skin felt hot and tight, and she shook from the overload. Finally, when she was afraid she might blow apart, she opened her eyes and searched for the priest.

He and Buffy still fought only a few feet away. Not for long, Willow promised herself (and Buffy) silently.

She formed the magic pulsing inside into a white-hot ball of pure power. There would be _nothing_ left of the First’s vessel by the time Willow finished with him. The First would have to learn to like being an incorporeal pain in everyone’s butt.

The magical weapon hovered between Willow’s cupped hands, waiting for an opening…

No. Willow’s concentration faltered. That wasn’t right. She couldn’t kill the vessel. The First would still exist. Would simply hunt until another qualified human agreed to become its host.

Willow wanted to scream in frustration. She wasn’t letting the First win. Not by default. There had to be another way. And she had to find if fast. Buffy was down, the priest standing over her with triumph written in his smirk. Her magic surged closer to the edges of control at the sight.

That’s when the faintest trace, a mere wisp, of an energy signature surrounding Buffy caught Willow’s attention.

What was _that_? In the span of a heartbeat, Willow traced the power from Buffy to the source. The Scythe. Dear Goddess, she was a fool. Burning with embarrassment at her oversight, Willow finally completed her and Buffy’s original mission. She reclaimed the Scythe.

Reaching out with an ephemeral hand, Willow once again seized a strand of the magic tying the Scythe to the Slayer line. Unlike when she’d done the same with Dawn, though, she didn’t waste her efforts by simply tracing the links to Buffy and the rest of her “descendants.”

Willow _used_ them.

The pool of her personal power became paltry. Siphoning energy from Buffy was like drawing power from the sun. And Willow didn’t stop there. One by one, she tapped the Potentials. Kennedy, Amanda, Vi… Willow vowed to learn the names of the rest of the group even as she pulled them into the multiple-way link.

This was like nothing Willow had experienced. It was beyond her wildest imaginations. The power… It was nearly limitless. It shouldn’t have even been possible.

And Willow wasn’t finished yet.

The plan had been to overload the First. Well, Willow was all for following the plan. She just had to do what they’d practiced the night before. She had to include the Circle. It was in place. Willow felt the joined energies below, and it was reaching out to her.

She reached back.

Peering through a shimmering curtain of white light, Willow turned to the First. “Actually, play time is over.”

Jenny Calendar glared defiantly back. “You cannot defeat me. You do not know my true power,” it shouted. Jenny’s form wavered and then seemed to grow and change.

Sparks lit the air where the new shape touched the edges of Willow’s power.

Willow watched, horrified, as a horned demon rose in front of her. It stretched and flexed and a rumble like a freight train shook the room. It didn’t move toward her, however. It moved toward the priest, the Vessel, superimposing its strength on the man’s body.


	69. Chapter 69

Willow gripped desperately at the burning strands of power in her hands as the demon disappeared. Or…not. The looming, horned form was gone. However, its power and evil still rocked the room, staring out of the priest’s eyes, promising death and destruction.

“Behold!” the priest cried out. His hands rose toward the ceiling in benediction. “The Lord has truly graced us with his presence. Bow down and worship before him.”

Oh, boy. Willow might have rolled her eyes at the theatrics – if Buffy hadn’t already been on the floor at the man’s feet. Taking a quick glance, Willow noted the bruises and fresh blood dotting the skin under Buffy’s nose and around her lips. “Sorry,” she ground out, more angry than she’d ever been. No one… _no one_ got to do that to her wife.

Vengeance was a given, and the path had already been laid.

Drawing the borrowed energy closer, Willow pressed each strand into the seething waves of magic already filling her channels. As if she had tossed sugar into boiling water, the coils of power melted and mixed with her personal energy. The sense of _other_ , of individuality, that had imbued the strands faded. What remained carried only a residual flavor of the Potentials and the Circle. The power mixed smoothly and became Willow’s alone.

Holding that well of power close, she paced forward slowly. “I don’t think I feel like kneeling. Or worshipping.” That was so far from her mind. “How about you? Would you like to try it? You’ve never seen _anything_ like me before,” Willow warned the First.

Its laughter was no surprise. In fact, it was gratifying, and it made Willow’s next choice easy.

“Ah, well. All that scraping and groveling would probably get old, anyway.” Jennifer had theorized that holding the First inside the Vessel wouldn’t be possible. That was before Willow had found a way to use the Scythe. There was no doubt in Willow’s now that there would be enough energy to create a barrier _and_ overload the First. Snapping up her right hand, Willow threw out a replica of the thin shield she’d tried earlier in her fight with the First. She didn’t let it hover protectively between them, however. She pushed it out rapidly, not wanting to give away the barrier’s true purpose until it was too late.

As the shimmering blue bubble floated across the room, the First went on the offensive. It bent, one hand gripping Buffy’s throat and lifting her off the floor. “For centuries, I’ve had to run from the likes of you, Slayer. I will run no longer.”

The shield bubble fluttered wildly as Willow stared at Buffy. Her wife was conscious. Willow saw one hand grip the First’s wrist with no result.

If Buffy couldn’t free herself… Well, Willow (and her magical coterie) certainly could. Giving up on hiding her intent, she pressed the shimmering shield at the First, ignoring the arm it waved and the burst of power it tossed out in an effort to dissipate the energy. 

A swirl of music played the Darth Vader theme in Willow’s mind as she marched her shield closer and closer.

This was going to work. It had to. Buffy’s pallor had passed ghost-like and was rapidly approaching funereal. Buffy had cheated death before, and Willow fully intended for this to be another check in the Living column. Letting the music swell to a thundering crescendo that only she could hear, Willow blew the shield the final few inches.

It touched the priest/First’s outstretched right hand and clung there.

The First’s eyes widened in disbelief. “No! I am…”

“Corporeal,” Willow finished for it. “Guess they didn’t put _that_ in the Vessels for Dummies handbook, huh?” More and more of the shield coated the First. Its entire right side was draped in pulsating blue energy and the leading edge crept up its neck. It was time to free Buffy so that _all_ of the First would be available to the magic.

Hitting the First with a blast of power was too risky. Willow didn’t want to unveil the next step in their plan. There had to be another way. Gathering a second ball of energy while maintaining her hold on the shield was tricky. Willow juggled the complex flow of magic, watching the advance of the blue ichor on the First slow to a crawl.

No. They weren’t losing. Not now.

Willow found her balance amid the magic by sheer force of will. Channels burning from the bright blaze of power, she set the new, glittering ball of energy in the frothing waves of joined power and…blew. It took off like a pinball whacked by the flippers and picked up speed with each heartbeat. The magic zipped through Willow and into her link with Buffy.

And, like the First and the priest, Willow found her Vessel. Battered, bruised, and barely breathing, Buffy suddenly surged erect as the ball of molten energy filled her. White light coalesced around her.

“No!” The First’s cry mingled with Buffy’s and it flung her away as its hand began to smoke.

It was time. Willow had expected to feel afraid…overwhelmed…something. What she and the others in the gestalt were about to attempt was possible in theory. As Willow opened the floodgates of her welling power and began to turn theory into reality, she felt only a sense of peace.

And then pain. Burning, searing agony flowed along with the magic Willow poured into the First and its Vessel. Each breath drew superheated air into her lungs. Each heartbeat pushed blood turned to lava through her veins.

Willow wanted to pull back. She _needed_ to pull back, to end the pain. And she couldn’t. Pulling back meant letting the First win. In some remote recess of her mind, Willow wryly wondered if this was what Buffy had faced with the Master and Adam and every other vampire and demon out to end the world or kill the Slayer. If so, Willow was completely on board about never, _ever_ fighting on the front lines again.

Unfortunately, that left Willow with a dilemma. If she couldn’t stop the power flow, she needed a way to at least make her suffering shorter – or more bearable. Using the last of her energy, Willow created a typhoon of mystical wind and turned it loose on the rapidly depleting pool of her personal reservoir.

The wild wind whipped at the already active waves of magic. Now for the hard part: controlling the increasing power of the internal storm. Willow held the funnel cloud between shaking ephemeral hands and steered it in the direction she wanted. Inch by inch, it moved, driving the blue waves through the open gates of her reservoir. Each successive swell sent more magic into Willow’s channels. Magic that poured out into the container created for it.

The First began to glow. Its voice rose in a cry of…protest? Exultation? Willow couldn’t tell and truly didn’t care. She only cared about maintaining her hold on the magical barrier keeping the First inside the Vessel and filling it to the brim.

After what seemed a lifetime, Willow realized she must be close to the end. The First was moving in her direction, and its obsidian eyes blazed with triumph. “Fools! You are fools!” it shouted. “Whatever your plans, they have failed. I am more powerful than ever!”

Actually, Willow wanted to protest, that _was_ the plan. At least in part. She didn’t have the energy to form the words of an explanation, though. The gestalt had come to the end of even its massive supply of magic. The last dregs of power dribbled through Willow’s channels. Her own reservoir held nothing except a few shimmering blue droplets.

Peering at the First through a haze of energy, Willow checked on their progress. Magic pressed against the barrier she’d placed around the priest, but it shimmied and bulged. They were so close. So very close to the spill point.

Those tiny drops slowly drying on the floor of her reservoir would have to be enough for the final push. Willow gathered them up, the amount barely filling the cupped palm of one hand, and threw it into the First’s ‘cup’. As the blue beads sailed through the air, the gestalt dissolved, leaving Willow alone in her head.

She barely noticed, too focused on the dregs of energy flying toward the First.  As they landed, the liquid power welling inside the First rose higher. Rose and…quivered. Willow saw the shield bubble shake again.

The First must have seen it, too. It turned to her and threw out a hand, lightening crackling from its fingers. Unfortunately, the effort only made its situation worse. Habit - or the need to utterly crush Willow - drove the First to ignore the power already surrounding it. And, as it sucked the ambient energy from the room, the First overloaded.

Willow had pushed her own reserves to the brim on more than one occasion since reaching the ranch. As she watched the First begin to glow with an unearthly red light, she fervently thanked her parents and whatever gods where listening for their insistence on learning control. The angry glow made the Vessel look as if he’d been dipped in paint – until pieces of his face and body chipped away. Then the light sprang out in ever widening beams.

Scrambling to avoid the wild magic, Willow dropped to the floor and severed the remaining link between herself and the First. She needed a shield…something to keep her and Buffy safe.

Buffy!

Willow lost all interest in the sight of the First slowly breaking apart. Tuned out its screams of frustrated rage. She had to get to where Buffy sprawled, still recovering from her flight through the room. Trying to stay as close to the floor as possible, Willow wiggled and squirmed across the carpet. “Buffy?” she whispered as she moved.

Only a flicker of an eyelid revealed Buffy’s awareness.

“Buffy, we have to…” Willow was about to explain the need for protection when the floor under her trembled. They were out of time, and there was nothing left in the tank. Literally. Willow’s reservoir was dry.

Then an impatient voice from Willow’s past whispered, _I tried to tell you that you didn’t always have to use your own resources, Willow_. _Use the energy in the room!_

Wincing at that tiny Tara voice speaking from her memories, Willow checked out her options. She couldn’t use the energy in the room. The spindles of uncontrolled magic now pouring from the crumbling hulk of the First would rip her apart along with the Vessel. Willow closed her eyes and hunted for something less volatile - and found what she needed. It wasn’t much, only a hint of clean magical energy left around a floral arrangement on the bathroom vanity.

A little was better than nothing. Willow spun and wove the thread of power into the thinnest of blankets and wrapped it over herself and Buffy. Through the transparent covering, she watched as more and more light shone through the Vessel. It filled the room, heavy and pulsing and brighter than the sun. Willow squinted against it. She needed to see the finale. She had to know the First was finally gone.

Her eyes watered from the glare, but Willow persevered. It was almost over. Only the First’s torso remained, and that was disappearing in chunks. The red light grew impossibly brighter, superimposing the image of the Vessel on Willow’s vision. Her right hand rose automatically to shade her eyes as the last vestige of the First exploded in a rain of fiery energy.

***

Faith opened her eyes slowly. Even that was too fast. The light leaking through the closed curtains hurt. Hurt… It was such a lame description for the head-splitting pounding. A groan tore from her throat, setting off more hammering.

Through the pain, Faith heard other moans and groans.

Pushing her own discomfort as far away as possible, Faith peered blearily around the room. The rest of the Circle lay on the floor. “D?” Faith’s voice creaked with disuse and sudden tension. Dawn wasn’t moving, and her eyes were closed. “Dawn?” Faith lurched onto her hands and knees, nearly blacking out as the movement sent invisible knives stabbing into her head.

The inches between them seemed like miles. Finally, though, Faith pressed a shaking hand to Dawn’s face and saw Dawn’s eyelids twitch.  “I want…to die,” Dawn mumbled.

“Sorry, D.” Faith didn’t care about her headache now. Dawn was alive – even if she didn’t appear to be happy about that. Grinning, she stroked Dawn’s cheek. “Looks like we made it through another end of the world. Now get up,” she ordered. “We gotta check on the rest of the crew.” Now that Dawn was aware, Faith wasn’t overly concerned with the members of the Circle. They were stirring; in fact, Drew was sitting next to Tara in a pose mirroring Faith’s.

The Potentials and the AI gang, though… They hadn’t been locked safely in a room.

That thought motivated Faith enough to stagger to her feet and hold a hand out to help Dawn. “Come on, babe. Nappin’s gotta wait.” She winked at Dawn’s scowl. “You look like B when you do that.”

Dawn’s expression smoothed immediately at her comment. “Just wait. Paybacks are a bitch,” she mumbled before moaning and stretching after Faith pulled her upright.

“I’ll look forward to it.” Unfortunately, Faith _wasn’t_ looking forward to what waited for them in the hallway. Despite her reluctance, though, she strode to the door and opened it carefully. Buffy had taken the only weapon, and Faith wasn’t ready to believe defeating the First meant the rest of its army was gone, too.

Bodies littered the hall and the first few stairs. Most of them wore robes. A few of them didn’t.

Faith closed her eyes and swallowed against the sickness trying to escape. “D, get with Kirstan and Jennifer. We’re gonna need to move the ‘Bringers outside.” She had to clear her throat before she could force the next words out. “And we need to get the kids covered and layin’ someplace else, too.”

“What…what happened to them?” Faith heard barely suppressed tears in Dawn’s whispered question.

“I guess…” Faith forced herself to look closely at the dead Potential on the staircase. “I guess the ‘Bringers was too much for Amanda.” The knife handle protruding from Amanda’s chest left little doubt about the cause of her death.

It should have been her. Faith stared at Amanda’s body. _She_ should have been the one fighting.

“Why don’t you go find Xander or Giles?” Dawn’s hand gripped Faith’s shoulder tightly for a second. “I’ll take care of Amanda.”

“Yeah. Yeah, I’ll do that.” Stepping away from the grisly scene was the hardest thing Faith had ever done. Arms and legs heavy and uncoordinated, she stumbled toward the kitchen. More bodies waited for her there. More ‘Bringers. More Potentials. A couple of Watchers.

The room blurred, and Faith didn’t have the energy to swipe at the tears suddenly running down her cheeks. It wasn’t supposed to happen this way. The Scoobies were supposed to win _without_ losing anyone.

“I take it the First is toast?” Xander’s quiet voice barely penetrated Faith’s examination of the kitchen. “Or is this what the end of the world looks like?”

Faith glanced at him. “What the fuck happened out here?” The words were tight and harsh. Faith didn’t care about the First – or about sounding polite. She wanted answers, and she wanted them _now_.

Xander stiffened at her demand. “I don’t know,” he answered.

“What…” Faith wasn’t accepting excuses.

“I _don’t know_!” They glared at each other for a second, and then Xander slumped. “We were beating them back, I thought. There were fewer of them than us, anyway. And all of a sudden, Marcy and Beth staggered. Like someone flicked the ‘off’ switch on their Potential Slayers.” His voice broke and he covered his eyes with a hand. “After that…”

After that, they died. Faith filled that in on her own. All of her anger drained away. No one had turned off the Slayers or Potential Slayers. Someone had borrowed them. Willow. Faith remembered the way all of her energy had been sucked out when the Circle had joined with Willow against the First. If that happened during a fight… “We have to get the bodies out of here.” Just looking at them was twisting Faith inside. There had been death and destruction in her past, some of it her fault. But she’d never had to witness, to acknowledge her culpability for something this large.

Willow would break under the strain.

“We’re working on it.” Xander dropped his hand and shrugged. “It’s hard; there aren’t a lot of hands on deck right now. “

Had they lost _all_ of the Potentials? Faith didn’t want to ask. She really didn’t. “Don’t matter about the numbers, X-man.” She met his eyes. “Red and B’ll be here soon.” If they could still walk after the battle. “They can’t see the kids like this.”

Faith could feel Xander waiting for more, but he wasn’t getting it. He must have realized that, too. “Where do you want them?”

“The barn.” The conversation was surreal. Faith watched numbly as Xander nodded and slipped out of the kitchen. Getting reinforcements or passing along the message, she hoped. And while he was gone, she could start cleaning up the evidence.  Bending and slipping her arms under Marcy’s shoulders and knees, Faith picked up the blood-stained and stiffened body.


	70. Chapter 70

“Don’t ask us not to go,” Buffy said, not bothering to turn around. She’d felt Faith approaching, and she wasn’t giving even an inch.

A booted foot settled onto the railing next to Buffy’s. “B, have you been drinkin’?” Faith chuckled and bumped Buffy’s shoulder as she leaned over and stared across the field. “Why the fuck would I want you and Red to stay?”

Now that Faith mentioned it, the idea didn’t make much sense. “Uh…” Buffy mumbled. Then, in a burst of honesty, she continued. “Actually, I think I’m wigging over the fact _no one_ is begging us to stay.” She grinned as Faith laughed again. “Yeah, yeah. I know. I’m crazy. I’ve been planning this trip since you showed up in Sunnydale the first time, and now that Will and I have the car packed, I can’t believe it’s really happening.”

In fact, Buffy fully expected to wake up from the dream at any moment.

“Can’t believe or don’t want to believe?” Faith shrugged defensively at Buffy’s disbelieving look.

“What do you mean?” Buffy asked the question, even though she thought she knew what Faith meant.

Faith must have known, too. She turned to fully face Buffy, foot dropping to the ground. “Come on, B. You ain’t stupid, despite the hair. Are you afraid another Big Bad’s gonna show up before you get down the driveway, or does General Buffy not trust me to keep things runnin’?”

Staring at Faith, Buffy tried to find an answer. _Did_ she trust Faith?

That was easy.

“Now who’s acting blonde?” She poked a finger into Faith’s chest. “Please. Of course I trust you. I mean, I haven’t said one word about this crazy plan you have to turn Willow’s parents into Professor Xavier and Jean Grey.”

They both laughed. “You think we could get Mama Red to cut her hair and put on one of them leather jumpsuits?” Faith smirked. “She’d look hot.”

“And Kirstan would kick your ass for even _thinking_ that.” Come to think of it… Buffy narrowed her eyes. “I should probably do a little kicking of my own. Jennifer and Willow look an awful lot alike.” An evil idea occurred. “And I bet Tara would have a few things to say – magically – about you checking out Drew, too.”

“That’s just mean, B,” Faith muttered with a scowl. “Mean. I’m gonna tell D on you.”

Buffy raised an eyebrow. “You are so whipped.” Who would have ever believed it?

“Hell, yeah, B, and lovin’ every minute of it.” Faith threw an arm around Buffy, and she dragged Buffy away from the railing. “Are you sayin’ Red don’t have you jumping to her tune? ‘Cause I seem to remember you nearly running me down on the way to the bedroom the other night…”

“Bitch.” Buffy tried to jab an elbow into Faith’s side, missing only because Faith danced out of the way.

“That’s General Bitch to you, B,” Faith pointed out. “And don’t you forget it.”

***

Willow walked slowly into the Training Barn. It was a far different experience than her first trip into the large building. The floor was completely covered in soft padding now. Gleaming weapons lined the walls in rigid rows. “Plus, I’m not dangling over Mom’s shoulder…”

“If you want, I can arrange a replay.” Kirstan stepped out of the shadows and waved a hand in welcome. “Normally, though, it only takes one trip like that. I didn’t expect you to be the slow learner in the family.”

“Damned Slayer hearing,” Willow complained, not having intended to share her reminiscence with anyone. “Not to mention the hiding in the corner bit. Are you trying to get a reputation? Scare a few of the new Slayers?” She struggled to control a grin at Kirstan’s flush. “That’s it. You’re playing Bad Cop, aren’t you?”

Kirstan stalked forward a few steps. “You keep that to yourself, missy. We’re going to have enough problems with seven new Slayers and more Potentials showing up every day. I’ve already had to break up three fights this morning, and I can hear an argument over the sleeping arrangements all the way from the house.” She rubbed her eyes. “Now I know why the Council trainers looked rumpled and grumpy all the time. Corralling the energy and aggression in the Juniors is worse than taming a powerful prodigal daughter.”

Rolling her eyes, Willow pointed out one key point. “You love every minute of it.”

“Who, me?” Kirstan’s expression of innocence was so obviously faked that Willow giggled.

“I’ll keep that a secret, too. After all, you won’t get any sympathy from Mama if she knows you aren’t overworked and abused.” As Willow held a hand out to Kirstan, her levity faded slightly. She’d forgotten, for a split second, her original reason for coming to the Barn. “We’re packed.”

Kirstan’s warm, callused palm covered Willow’s seconds before her fingers squeezed Willow’s hand gently. “You look like it’s the end of the world, daughter mine. We survived that last month.” She pulled Willow into a tight hug. “Don’t tell me you’re getting cold feet…?” Laughter rumbled through her, vibrating against Willow. “Actually, put that on the list of things not to tell your mother. I’ll never hear the end of how my bad genes filtered down to you.”

Tilting her head back (and ignoring the tears slipping down her cheeks), Willow peered up at Kirstan. “You got cold feet?” No way. Her parents seemed so devoted to each other.

“It took three other Potentials and a very stern lecture from my Watcher to get me to the altar.” Kirstan’s blush covered her face and turned the tips of her ears brick red. “I blame it all on the bachelorette party the night before. Booze and nerves never mix well.”

“At least you didn’t turn into a Neanderthal and thump people with sticks,” Willow mumbled. Her lips twitched, though, as she created a mental image of Cave Buffy side by side with Kirstan the Drunken Groom. Maybe she should suggest the new training academy ban Slayers and Potentials from drinking anything stronger than Kool-Aid.

Her thoughts were interrupted when Kirstan turned her toward the door and began to propel them forward. “Come on. No more dawdling. You and Buffy need to hit the road.” Kirstan’s voice was soft and husky. “But not before we make a pit stop in the kitchen. Jenny will turn us both into frogs if you don’t stop in for a hug and some advice…”

“Not frogs.” Shuddering dramatically, Willow said, “I have frog fear. How about a rat? I think Amy’s old cage is still at Buffy’s house.” She didn’t offer to explain, despite the inquiring eyebrow Kirstan cocked in her direction. As they emerged into the morning sun, Willow felt the warmth drove away the chill of uncertainty and indecision that had been with her.

The sight of a laughing Buffy chasing Faith across the field helped even more.

“You know what?” Willow leaned back into Kirstan for a second before stepping away. “Mama won’t need to use any magical threats. It’s time for me and Buffy to see something besides cemeteries and libraries.” Reaching into her pocket, she touched the car keys and smiled. It was so time…


End file.
